Take the tiger by the tail
by aidan bard
Summary: [complete]Lucius Malfoy comes up with a plan to get the Boy who lived,at least his powers using his son as bait. What he does not expect is an unexpected death in the family,a whole gang of Gryffindors and his son's hidden feelings for Harry.[HPDM][MPREG]
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A Tangled Ball of Threads.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Acting Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall

Dear Ms. Granger,

We regret to inform you that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will not be commencing classes as usual due to unavoidable circumstances. Everything possible is being done to rectify the situation.

We regret the any inconvenience this may cause.

Sincerely Yours,

Minerva McGonagall,

Acting Headmistress

break 

"That was the most boring meeting I've ever attended," Ron complained loudly, throwing himself onto the bed and closing his eyes.

"How would you know?" Ginny said irritably. "You fell asleep before it was half over."

"I did not!" Ron protested.

"I've got drool marks on my shoulder to prove it," Hermione said impatiently.

"Yes, but…" Ron complained weakly. "It was boring. They staged it just for our benefit, didn't they? Talking about food storage and transportation."

"It was boring," Ginny said finally. "And it sounded forced. Did you see Lupin talking as if he'd memorized something from a book?"

"It was forced, all right," Hermione added thoughtfully. "But not for i our /i benefit."

"How many times have we been invited to an Order meeting? Everyone always telling us we're not of age," Ron snapped angrily. "And, with Lavender Brown attending it as well."

"I think we were allowed to sit through it because Lavender came as well," Hermione said. "Don't you see? It wasn't exactly as if Scrimgeour could send Percy to attend the Order meetings, so he sent someone we all know. Someone Harry knows very well."

"But Harry doesn't like Lavender!" Ron protested. "He can't stand that giggling …slut." He looked at Hermione to see if this met her approval, as he had, at one time, been very close to Lavender.

"Maybe not, but I bet she told the Minister that she was a close friend of Harry's…now that he's broken up with Ginny. Perhaps told everyone he had crush on her sometime back. Plus, we don't know when school will be starting," she added, touching the parchment she kept with her at all times, as a reminder of what to expect. "We all have to survive somehow, whether we finish school or not, with a war threatening to erupt."

"What does she mean, 'Acting Headmistress'?" Ron asked, knowing from Hermione's expression she was thinking of school again.

"It means that the Board of Governors and the Ministry are not going to let her run the school," she explained. "Dumbledore became so powerful they couldn't control him. This time they're planning on having someone they can control. There was a rumour that…" she swallowed, looking slightly sick at the thought.

"What?" Ron asked with a feeling of dread.

"That Umbridge is to be on the school board," Hermione finished in a rush. "If she takes the place of Lucius Malfoy …"

"There might not be anything worth returning to," Ginny finished.

"I do miss it," Ron said, sounding surprised. "No more Quidditch, sneaking out at night… and the Great Hall. I used to think Harry was the only person who didn't look forward to holidays, but now I think I understand."

"I was going to be Head Girl," Hermione moaned, and no one argued with her, though it had never been confirmed.

"If there's someone who will miss school more than we do, it's going to be Harry," Ginny said in a sad voice.

break 

Two weeks of digging in the backyard to fulfill his uncle's new obsession found Harry sunburnt, sweaty and irritable. He rested his hands on the waistband on a frayed pair of jeans that were rolled up since they were too long, and looked at his handiwork He rested his hands on the shovel he had been using and looked down intently. The hole in the ground looked deep, though he knew it would not be deep enough to satisfy his relatives.

'I'm digging a grave so they can bury me after they kill me in my sleep,' Harry thought, looking at the fish pond. After one week in the blistering sun, he had discovered more muscles than he had thought possible. The only good thing was it kept him from thinking about what had happened. It also kept him away from the telly and more importantly, the news.

The crack of someone Apparating outside the Anti-Apparition wards startled him so much that he dropped the shovel, reached for his wand and turned around towards the sound so quickly that it made him dizzy. A few seconds later, the oddly rumpled figures of Mad-Eye Moody and Arthur Weasley came into view. Harry just stared.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, half excited, half worried.

"What's with the hole in the ground?" Arthur asked in a strange manner.

"The boy's getting ready for an attack," Moody answered for him, flicking his wand at Arthur. Weasley now stood dressed in a flowered summer dress, spaghetti strapped and very short. "Going to dig a tunnel to China, are we?"

Harry gaped at the two men in surprise. Then he lifted his wand again. "Who are you?"

"Us," said Arthur, completely oblivious to the fact he wore a dress. He pointed his wand at Moody. Suddenly, Mad-Eye Moody stood in the Dursley's backyard wearing a tutu.

"Always be prepared to startle your enemies, boy," Moody said as if it was the most ordinary thing. Harry closed his eyes. A half-dressed Moody was not something to fantasize about. With luck, he wouldn't be scarred for life by the sight of the wooden leg and the hideous scars visible through the stripes of blue and orange clothing.

"Oh, I can't do this anymore," Arthur said, and suddenly both the men were on the ground, laughing their heads off. "The look on your face is priceless, Harry, I wish I had a camera."

"What?" Harry managed.

"Give us a minute," Moody said as he plucked out his false eye and pocketed it, just as his skin started to bubble. Harry was familiar with the use of Polyjuice. Due to the antics of the two men, he didn't think them dangerous, so he waited. When the final transformation was over, Fred and George Weasley stood up laughing, despite the pain of changing back. Harry couldn't help but laugh at their actions.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, laughing since the twins were still wearing the clothes they had being dressed in previously.

"Long story," said one of the twins. "We have a letter for you from your friends, and we thought we'd deliver it in person on our way to the shop."

"But why are you…" He pointed at them.

"Dressed like color-blind Muggles?"

"No, the Polyjuice…"

"Dad and Mad-Eye have gone on a mission to find some founder's artifact," George replied. "When you read the letter, you'll understand… we have Order meetings and, well, their absence would have been more noticeable than ours, so we thought, why not?"

"Fake…er… fake eye," said Fred, changing back to his original attire, "can't see through clothes." He took out a piece of rolled together parchment. "Got to go, mate, before we are missed at the shop."

Harry didn't even notice it, as he was too distracted by the information George had casually divulged. Mad-Eye and Arthur were gone off on a Horcrux hunt. It was a shame he couldn't go, but the wards around the house still protected him until he came of age. He hadn't even had a disturbing dream so far. He absentmindedly reached for the letter wishing he was with his friends, instead of digging to China. When he looked up, the twins were gone. He dropped down, cross legged, onto a pile of soft soil, and started to read the letter.

Harry,

You won't believe what happened. We got to attend our first Order meeting today. It was held in the kitchen and nearly everyone came. There were loads of people there.

'Either Ron doesn't know about the missing people or he's keeping quiet because of security,' Harry thought as he read on.

Ginny, Hermione and I got to attend as well, but Ginny was really mad about something. I think she and Hermione had an argument over it, coz afterwards, they were standing in a corner muttering at each other. When I went near them, they simply shut up and wouldn't tell me anything.

(He could imagine his friend rolling his eyes and saying 'girls'.

Not to worry, I think only you can read this letter, since Hermione cast a spell on it to show its message only to the recipient. Anyway the meeting was a total waste. They talked about food storage and stuff. I fell asleep and don't remember much. (Don't tell anyone about it.) Oh, Lavender came for the meeting as well, but that's later.

She just showed up with Tonks and said she was working for the Ministry, and everyone smiled and said, 'Yes, dear'. She asked about you, and when Ginny walked in later, asked if you two had broken up. I don't think Ginny was really pleased, t she said something about you being busy.

Anyway, since you were mad at us the last time we didn't write, I thought I'd keep you informed.

Hermione wants to write a bit, so I'll let her have the parchment now. (Yes, she's here as well.) The girls aren't getting on well at all. I wish you were here, mate.

Ron.

P.S. Bill's wedding has been postponed coz he's not getting any better. Mum is all for keeping him at home, but Dad's thinking of transferring him to St.Mungo's.

The untidy handwriting was followed by the careful script of Harry's other best friend, who also happened to be Ron's girlfriend.

Dear Harry,

I can see that Ron's clueless as to what is going on. I should perhaps start at the beginning and say the Order is cooperating with the Ministry now. We don't have much choice in the matter. Apparently, Dumbledore's death unraveled a spell that kept people from talking and the news had somehow gotten to Scrimgeour. We don't have any other choice but to pretend to get along with them.

The only good thing is that Scrimgeour is not going to waltz into Order meetings. Instead, he's sending Lavender Brown as his representative. Perhaps he thought that as a Gryffindor and former schoolmate, we'll be more likely to open up to her. The meeting she attended was staged for her benefit. I think they are trying to convince the Ministry that the Order is a bunch of outcasts who are all talk. I spoke to Professor McGonagall the other day, and she said there weren't enough students to open the school. Just as well. With war coming, I don't think it'll be safe to keep a large number of children together in the same place.

And no, Ginny and I are not fighting. We had a bit of a disagreement over some issues. She sends her love by the way, but is too busy to write. I'm sure she'll fill you in on things the next time.

Stay with your aunt, it's only going to be for a little while and we'll keep you informed as much as possible. I have to stop now. I hear Professor Lupin running. That means someone's Apparated outside the wards… yes, even the Burrow has a few protective wards up now…must go see who it is. Could be Charlie.

Your scar hasn't hurt, has it?

Take care and don't do anything stupid.

Love,

Hermione

break 

He never had been a stranger to pain. It was something he was intimately familiar with, so familiar that he barely felt all the broken bones rubbing together as he crawled towards the room where his savior was. Perhaps it was the potion, he thought. He could still taste it at the back of his throat. It was a bitter, nauseating taste, which made him want to throw up, but he did not, in case it brought up more blood.

With each painful hand dragged forward... i Clutch, push with one good leg, don't move the knee too much, /i he reviewed the plan his father had come up with.

"…it has to look real…"

"...yes, Father…"

"…a life for a life, one for you and one for your mother. It isn't too much to ask, is it?"

"…no, Father," But it was, and he was going to come up with a little amendment of his own. His father was wrong; Potter was too noble and self-sacrificing to fall for the plan. But it was also his downfall, his loyalty to his friends, his willingness to sacrifice for the good of others. There was no way to get to Potter. He was too well protected, by wards left by the former headmaster, by friends and family. Unlike him, Potter was surrounded by a group of people who would rather die than let any harm come to him. The most important of these were the Weasleys and Granger.

Granger was Muggle-born and did not have the right connections. He didn't know where she lived and quite frankly did not care if she lived in a little hole in the ground. The Weasleys were a different matter. No matter what he had said in the past about their unimportance, he was not stupid. They were very important in the Wizarding world…their word was still good in the Ministry and they were all loyal to Potter to the end.

And Potter was in a relationship with the youngest Weasley, if he was remembering correctly. So he chose Ron Weasley. When he thought back, he realized there really was no other alternative. It was easier to solve a problem by starting with the hardest part and work towards the easiest. That way, the worst was over quickly.

A few more steps and he would be there. He could feel the blood dripping from various cuts leaving a trail behind, one that would be very difficult to get off the expensive carpet. It was going to be a long day.

Finally, the door was in sight, closed but with a glimmer of light escaping from under it. He lifted his hand slowly, noting that three of his fingers were at an odd angle, and then knocked thrice, taking care not to jar his body too much. After all, too much pain would cause him to black out. He did not want to bleed to death just steps away from his destination.

The door opened suddenly, and a shadow fell over him. The man at the doorway stood, seeing no one at eye level and finally looked down and saw the bundle of blood and torn scraps of clothing lying at his feet.

"Draco!" Snape said in shock, stooping down like a giant bat just as he lost consciousness.

break 

Narcissa Malfoy looked up from her cup of tea and then kept it carefully on the table in front of her as her husband sat down in an armchair next to the table. Only someone watching very closely would have noticed that the cup had clattered with the saucer or the drop of tea that spilled over the edge. She looked up slowly, letting her face arrange itself into a presentable mask. "I heard the screaming," she said softly. "Did you kill him?"

"And lose a valuable asset?" Lucius said softly, regarding her thoughtfully. "I never throw away something unless there is a replacement." He tipped his head to the side and regarded her rather coldly. "Too bad you couldn't provide me with another heir when I asked you to."

"He was all I could …" Narcissa paused and picked up her tea cup, at a loss of anything to do.

Lucius stood up and walked to the table until he was standing behind her. It took the blonde female a lot of effort not to cringe when he stood exactly behind her and reached for the pot of tea. "I have other uses for him now. He will lead me to the person most wanted by our side of the war."

"You are just letting him go," she said, and then realization dawned on to her like a wave of horror. "You put a Tracking Charm on him."

"Yes," he said simply, taking the cup of tea from over her shoulder. Again, she did not flinch as his hand brushed her back slightly. Her tea cup shook and her knuckles whitened, as the grip on the cup tightened.

"But when they find out, they'll kill him," she said shakily, making no move to cover her emotions.

"They will find what they want to find," Lucius said softly. "A Tracking Spell concealed on him, but not that well. What they won't find is something even you, my dear, will not be able to detect. Only a true Malfoy will be able to find it, if they look hard enough."

"You didn't!" she said, coming to her feet so fast the cup of tea toppled over and shattered. Tea, light brown in color, soaked into the white carpet, leaving a stain that looked a lot like dried blood. "How could you? He is your son!"

"Which is exactly why I did it," Lucius said, waving his wand, so the repaired teacup floated up and rested on the table. "He agreed to it."

"Did he?" Narcissa asked in a low, dangerous voice, her hand closing over the memory of a wand she did not posses anymore.

"He loved every minute of it," Lucius snarled cruelly. "Just like you did."

"Liar!" Her slap did not reach his face. She dropped her hand, shocked that Lucius' wand was already coming up. She stood back in resignation and waited for the inevitable.

The crack of Apparition brought two individuals running to its location. "Snape," Remus said, lowering his wand and looking at the bloodied figure draped across his arms. "Who is that?"

"Draco," Snape said impatiently. "He specifically asked to be brought here. I was going to take him to Hogwarts, but he did not want to go. Actually, this was the only location I could think of. Is there anyone here who knows healing spells?"

"Hermione," Tonks said, also putting her wand away. "She's been looking up some medical texts, and Molly ought to know how to fix a broken bone or two after putting up with Fred and George."

"We'd better hurry then," Remus said, stepping forward and holding out his hands for the burden. Despite his slight stature, he was a werewolf and much stronger than his appearance led people to believe. "Tonks, send a message to Molly." With that, he started to move toward The Burrow from the Apparition point. Tonks raised her wand and cast her Patronus, which looked stronger than it had in a while, a white wolf with a smiling face.

"Nymphadora, wait," Snape said, as Tonks made to follow. "What are you doing here?"

"Bill," Tonks replied in a tight voice laced with disgust. She did not like the Potion master anymore than she did in her school days. "He's not getting any better, and Remus dropped in since…"

"…he's the resident werewolf expert," Snape said sarcastically. "That does not explain why you have to tag along with him." He made it sound as if she were a flea that had accidentally gotten tangled in his fur.

"Molly invited me," she answered defensively. She cursed herself for sounding like a scared little girl.

"And any news of Potter?"

"He's at his blood relatives' house," Tonks replied. "We've got people looking after him, though he doesn't know it."

"Does he know I did not betray the Order?"

"Why the sudden concern?" Tonks finally managed to find her footing and shoot back.

"It would be advisable if the Hope of the Light Side concentrated on his duty to kill the Dark Lord and not get mixed up in petty ideas of revenge," Snape answered smoothly, adjusting his robe and taking out his wand. He ignored Tonks' agitation at his actions and her wand, which had been raised in response, and started to remove the blood from his robes.

"He was told," the pink haired Auror said carefully, "that you were under a blood debt and Dumbledore ordered you to kill him if it came to it, and that you still work for us."

"And how is he taking it?" There was real emotion in his voice now.

"It's only been nine days since the funeral," Tonks said, throwing a look over her shoulder. "I have to be going, before they send a search party out. Why don't you come with us? Molly's been baking…"

"I have to go before I'm missed," Snape said, giving himself a once over. "Remember, no matter what, Draco is a Malfoy and cannot be trusted." Always a man to have the last word, Snape smiled at Tonks' apparent uneasiness and Disapparated, leaving her standing alone, the sounds of The Burrow reaching her ears indistinctly.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N- for those of you who are reading this on another site, this is the betaed version. The other version gives me a headache. :)

Thank you, dear beta.

Chapter 2: "Unraveling One by One"

"Who did this to you?" Snape asked when Draco opened his eyes to the blurry surroundings. The one-time Potions master of Hogwarts was, at present, a resident of Malfoy Manor and had been given a wing for himself. The room he was in was sparsely decorated with a few artfully arranged chairs, a worktable in the corner, facing a window, and a few wall hangings, none of them portraits. Draco lifted his head from the sofa where he had been carried to and coughed weakly. His body twitched from prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus, and he seemed to have bitten his tongue during one of the convulsions.

"Who do you think?" he snapped despite the pain and the taste of potions in his mouth.

"Drink this," Snape said, bringing another vial of potion forward, which Draco choked downknowing that it was some form of healing potion, although it tasted terrible. Draco coughed up more blood and leaned back against the headrest, not wanting to strain his aching body. The curse had been the worst that had been done to him. No, he remembered. There was something much worse, but he had agreed to it, so it wasn't exactly…

"Was I raped…?" the blond asked, finding the empty vial on his palm the most interesting thing in the world.

"Yes." Snape was never a person to coddle someone. And Draco appreciated his honesty. "Was it your father?"

"I think so," Draco answered, disgust lacing his insides, making him want to vomit. He hoped it was his father, or the plan would not work. He had hoped it had not been done, that his father truly loved him, that torture had been enough to appease the anger and disappointment Lucius had felt. "I want to get out of here."

"Draco," Snape said, coming towards him, "I'm sorry."

It was the last thing he had expected his harsh former Head of House to say, and his head snapped up in surprise. He hissed in pain, which turned into a cough, which brought up more blood. Using his good hand to wipe away the speckles of blood on his chin, Draco looked at Snape, who had reached his side during the coughing fit. The greasy haired man knelt next to him and looked at him in the eye.

"When I brought you here, the last thing I expected was for you to be hurt. I thought you would be safe, not tortured and …raped by your father." Of course, his safety had been in mind. Where better to keep a child safe than with his parents?

Draco felt a wave of guilt which he hid behind a coughing fit. Unfortunately, he was more injured that he had previously thought, and it brought up a warm rush of blood and potion. He found himself vomiting all over the upholstery, his head supported by a pair of calloused hands. When he could finally breathe, he lifted his tearing eyes and said, rather weakly, "Can you help me?"

"Of course I will," Snape replied, "I'm taking you to a mediwizard as soon as…"

"No!" Draco exclaimed forcefully, then had to bend over with pain as his body objected to the sudden movement.

"You are dying," Snape told him bluntly. "I'm not going to hide you somewhere and hope you get better on your own. My healing ability is limited as it is."

"You can't take me anywhere," Draco protested weakly, his voice wavering in pain. The pain that was eating him alive from the inside and making him want to sink into the darkness. Perhaps his father had gone overboard with the whole idea, and he would die before he could leave the house. "I'm wanted, don't you remember? I'm of age and they can try me as an adult."

"What in the world are you…"

"The cursed necklace…" Draco said weakly, and for a moment, the world swam out of focus.

"I'm taking you to Hogwarts," Snape said decisively, standing up and scooping him up into his arms as if he weighed nothing. Draco, in fact, had not been eating much and he probably weighed very little. However, the process of being picked up disturbed his body, which had started to accept the pain, and the sudden movement caused him to shout in pain.

"Oh, no…" Draco moaned in pain. "I know the Ministry is all over the place. You can't …just let me die. " The last three words were said with as much conviction as possible. The plan could go to hell; he was in so much pain, he was better off dead, and his mother could deal with the problem of escaping on her own.

"Well, what do you suggest we do?" Snape said, as he started towards the door, ignoring the blood on his robes and the whimpering from the injured boy in his arms. "You seem very intent on getting out, but you also seem to be doing a lot of protesting."

"Somewhere safe," Draco mumbled through a mouthful of blood. He didn't know he had so much blood in him. "Pomfrey would help me, but I can't go to school. If…" 'here comes the plan' "…if you could take me to some wizarding house, you can have her pay a call there. Since school hasn't started yet, she will be free…" He left it hanging out in the open, knowing that Snape had the social life of a cannibalistic slug with body odor.

"The Weasleys then," Snape said decisively, hefting Draco in his arms so that the boy would not slide down and walking to the Apparition point outside the Manor wards, noting that the movement had caused the boy to black out.

break --- --- ----

A very confused Harry Potter sat in the corner of his uncle's garden on a growing pile of soil. On his lap lay a very old owl with its feet sticking up, and only the regular movement of its feathers reassured the boy that the bird was not dead. Hedwig pecked at Errol, the old Weasley owl, in concern, but the old owl, after delivering its letter, seemed to be on its deathbed.

While waiting for the owl to recover, Harry rolled open the parchment and read his friend's confused ramblings. According to Ron, either the family had taken a huge liking to a ferret and decided to give it a new home, or, if he was to understand correctly by the roundabout way of writing, Draco Malfoy had moved in with his most hated enemies.

Perhaps Ron had taken a bad fall on his head.

break -- --- ----

When Draco finally opened his eyes, he decided that he had died and gone to hell, or to a place where there was an excess of redheads... or to the Weasley home. He blinked his eyes a couple of times and tried to sit up carefully, not knowing how long he had been unconscious. His movement drew attention to him, and all of a sudden, he was surrounded by a gaggle of redheads, one head of startling pink hair, and the bushy haired head that belonged to none other than Granger-Mudblood. He was lying on some type of couch, covered by an oddly shaped quilt, probably hand knitted by a blind relative of Longbottom's. From what he could see out of the window in front of him, it was either late night or the next morning. If he had lived so far, he probably was going to make it.

"Mom, the Ferret's awake," the Weasel said in a loud voice, making Draco's head hurt. Even the hangover he'd had from the last Slytherin midnight party had not been this bad.

"Don't you shout, Ronald," said a dumpy redheaded woman who was louder than her son, and she moved towards him, pushing away the crowd until he did not feel claustrophobic any more. Though her manner was brisk, when she reached him, her hands were gentle as she pushed back the hair that had fallen over his eyes. "How are you, dear?" Her voice was kind.

Draco noted with amusement that she had large breasts; perhaps a result of feeding seven monsters, unlike his mother, who had probably never breast fed him and used a charm to keep them firm and small. "Where… am I?" he muttered weakly, startled that he did not have to pretend. He knew exactly where he was, but he had to buy some more time by faking ignorance.

"Guess where, Ferret," Ron said loudly, his voice laced with malicious glee. "You're at The Burrow, you know, the house where you'd least expect to be."

"Not now, Ron," Granger said sharply and appeared at his side holding a glass of water. Feeling parched, Draco reached for the glass only to find his hand strapped tightly to his side. Then the werewolf was next to him, holding his head with one hand, helping him sit up, and the glass of water was held to his lips.

He took a few careful sips before bringing it back up, mixed with blood. "Maybe we should call Madam Pomfrey," Granger said uneasily, casting a few spells on him. They were more complex than he had imagined she could do, and he could not be sure as to what they did. Healing spells, some form of mediwizard thing. However, he was uneasy enough to flinch every time her wand pointed in his direction.

"Well, is he dying?" Ron asked eagerly, though Draco could see the redhead turning an unhealthy shade of green at the sight of blood.

"Oh, Ron give it a rest," the youngest Weasley, (whose name he couldn't remember, - was it Gina, Jena?), snapped as she moved next to him and started to wipe the blood off his face with a cool cloth. He leaned against the werewolf, who felt strangely warm and comfortable, and closed his eyes as the cloth passed over his eyes.

"Snape brought me here," he said softly, looking over his shoulder at the concerned eyes of his former DADA professor. Let them interpret it as a question if they wanted to.

"You were almost dead, cousin," the pink haired female…in dreadful robes said. "I'm Tonks, by the way, your cousin…Andromeda's daughter. Introductions aside, we'd like to know who did that to you."

"Isn't it obvious," he said, lacing his voice in pain and shame in equal measure. "My father…for my failing to do my duty, for not being able to complete my assignment handed to me by the Dark Lord."

"You let the Death Eaters in to the castle and you call that failing!" Ron shouted. "My brother had to postpone his wedding because a werewolf mauled his face and it won't heal and all you can say is..."

"Where's your mother, Mr. Malfoy?" the werewolf asked him, and he shuddered in the warm grip.

"Draco," Draco corrected forcefully, hate coursing though his body. "Mr. Malfoy is my father, and I am not him." For once, his emotions were real and the anger he felt for his father outweighed the pain, and he struggled to sit up on his own.

"Where's your father?" The voice was kind and understanding, and he looked up to meet the face of Weasley Sr., who had probably never raised a wand against any of his children. He also looked tired, dressed in a crumpled outdoor robe despite the lateness of the hour.

"My mother has been missing for some time," Malfoy said without any emotions. "She was very resourceful and knew where to go if she bit more than she could swallow. She knew of my father's activities and took precautions so she always had a way out."

"Those plans didn't include you?" asked Ginny, and he winced at the note of pity in her voice. Malfoys and pity did not mix.

"I am capable of looking after myself," snarled Draco, angered that he had been reduced to a helpless bundle to be pitied by his enemies.

"How is he, Hermione?" werewolf asked, and Granger looked up, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully.

"He's not bleeding internally, just some leftover blood, I suppose," she said uncertainly. "I'm not good at this ...can we ask Madam Pomfrey to Floo down here and have a look at him again?"

"I feel much better now," Draco said hastily. A close probing by the mediwitch might reveal the very thing he was trying hard to hide.

"But Malfoy…" she started.

"I'm not suicidal, Granger," he told her firmly. "If I feel unwell, I'll tell you. At the moment, I feel much, much better." She nodded and moved back, letting the others have a look at him.

"You should eat something, dear," the plump female said, and at the mention of food, Draco felt his bile rise.

"Malfoy's going to be sick again," Ron announced joyfully.

"Shut it, Weasel," he snarled, collecting what strength he had left and trying to ease out of the warm embrace of the werewolf.

"Draco…" The voice reminded him that, for three weeks, he had had a crush on the werewolf, before he had found out that about the man's affliction and the fact he had locked himself with Potter in his room. Trust Potter to act like a slut with a man his father's age, which probably explained the good marks Potter had gotten for Defense that year, but not the feeling of jealously when he had seen the two together, especially since his feelings for the older man had all but disappeared by then.

"I'd like to lie down now," he said weakly, half scared at how helpless he felt.

"Molly, shall I put him to bed?"

"Yes, the spare bed in Ron's room; Harry uses it when he comes to stay."

"Is…Potter here?" Draco asked, lifting his head off Lupin's shoulder.

"No, is that a problem, Malfoy?" He really wished Ron would not jump down his throat every time he asked a question. It was starting to become quite tiring.

"I don't want him to see me like this," Draco decided to tell them the truth.

As he was carried up stairs and placed on a bed, which was surprisingly comfortable, he reflected that it hadn't gone as badly as he had thought it would.

break 

Slytherins were devious and cowardly. They were used cheating to win and took the easiest way out whenever available. Gryffindors, in contrast, were probably related to Hufflepuffs. They believed in fair play and bravery, team spirits, obeying by the rules. They did not kick their enemies when they were down. Which was why, when he woke up in the middle of the night in Ron Weasley's bedroom, he decided to wake up the redhead.

"Hey, Weasel, Weasel!" It was probably a proven fact that the annoying minion of Harry Potter could sleep through a hailstorm that could bring the house down. He sat up carefully, wincing at the aches and pains that reminded him he had barely escaped with his life. He was, however, grateful for the pain; it reminded him that he was alive, and it was not the pain of bones grating against each other, it was more of the healing stiff pain variety he could live with.

However, he could not live with a full bladder, the reason he had finally become aware of his surroundings. Draco would have preferred to deal with the Weasel in the morning, preferably in the company of someone else. But bed wetting was not a good way to start any sort of friendship with the people you were forced to put up with, personal embarrassment nonwithstanding.

He sat up slowly, fighting the wave of dizziness, and swung his legs off the bed. It was higher than the one he had at home and not as wide, but just as comfortable. He was, after all, sleeping in the same bed the great Harry Potter had graced, so how could he complain? He hoped they had changed the sheets after Potter had slept on it. He tried to stand up, a pathetic attempt which had him panting with effort.

"Weasel, hey …Ron." His voice was hoarse and not at all loud. He staggered to his feet, cursing loudly, and almost wet himself as the pain in his side flared up. He had been dressed in a pair of ratty pajamas, he saw with horror. Maroon ones that were too long for him, probably the Weasel's. He was sure he was going to be itching all over by morning. That is, if he didn't pee in them.

The three steps to the Weasel's bed were pure agony, each one reminding him of broken bones andribs puncturing his lungs. His hands twitched occasionally, a leftover effect from the curse, and the waves of dizziness reminded him of the time he had gone sailing during a storm. He finally reached the bed and almost fell on sleeping redhead. The Redhead finally stirred and sat up.

" 'Arry," he mumbled sleepily. "What is it?"

Did that mean Potter stumbled into bed with the Weasel at night? Were all those rumors true! "It's me, Weasel," he tried to snarl, but what came out was a frustrating whisper.

"What?" The redhead sat up, looking confused, and almost pushed Draco off the bed. "Malfoy!" he exclaimed, as if he had just found a dead rat on his bed. (A dying ferret, perhaps.) "What do you want?" he asked sleepily. "Why are you trying to get in to my bed?"

"Really, Weasel, you think too highly of yourself," Draco gasped in disgust, pushing himself off. He was off balance, teetering, on the verge of falling backwards. Ron sat up faster than Draco had thought possible and grasped his upper arm firmly before he fell over. The two boys stood frozen for a moment, Draco's heart beating wildly at the close call. Had he fallen over, in his condition, he would have been bedridden for another week or so. "I need to take a piss," he said, a little uncomfortably aware that the only thing holding him up was the grip on his bicep. "I have no idea where your toilet is, seeing that I don't even remember walking into your house."

"Malfoy, it's…" Ron thought for a moment and stood up, throwing the blanket off of him. "I'll take you there… it you fall over and kill yourself, they'll think I killed you and I will never hear the end of it."

The entire house, with how many …nine… ten people seemed to have one centrally situated bathroom. What did they do the morning, take turns standing in line? He let Ron lead him into a cramped room with a bathtub in the corner, surrounded by a bright orange shower curtain, which made his head hurt just to look at. Dealing with the problem at hand, he lowered his pajamas' elastic waistband and just when he was done, the world tilted to the side again.

He must have made some sort of noise, since the Weasel was at his side instantly, holding him up…with his pants around his ankle. Brilliant! He hung onto the only solid support he could find, admitting grudgingly that not only was the Weasel tall, he was also strong. After all, all the food he kept on going through must have been of some use.

He felt the Weasel pull his pants up and surprisingly gently tuck his penis back in. He was sure that his face was as red as the Gryffindor banner and was about to catch fire at any moment. He did not say a word as he was led back to bed and helped onto it. He had a lump in his throat for no apparent reason, and as the Weasel got back into bed, he grunted, "Good night, Malfoy."

"It's Draco," Draco said softly.

"What?"

"When you've had another block's dick in your hand, the least you can do is call him by name." There was a pause. "Thanks… Ron."

break 

Breakfast at the Weasleys' house was a disaster. Food, people and owls flew around like objects caught in a tornado, and Draco watched everything with blurry eyes, ready to dodge any flying missiles. The werewolf had left early, leaving him to face a house full of morons and idiots who were screaming and running around in half-dressed states The Weasel, thankfully, had not mentioned the incident the night before, and quite frankly, he was too embarrassed to bring it up.

Just as he was regretting his decision to come down for breakfast instead of having breakfast in bed like an invalid, they all settled down for food. The food was good, surprisingly good for something not cooked by house-elves, although he would rather have been caught dead than admit that aloud. There was also plenty of it, which was a surprise. From the way the Weasel had fallen onto the food, you'd have thought there was food shortage at home. Perhaps the lack of other Weasley children….

Draco was a little sorry to see the werewolf go, not that he would admit that outloud. It had been nice to be carried down the rickety steps in a strong pair of arms, and for a moment, he had closed his eyes and pretended that it had been his father. Of course, he had brought his fantasies to a stop. The pink-haired cousin of his, Tonks…what sort of name was that…was dressed in an oddly shaped robe and smelled like an overdose of rose essence when she had joined them hurriedly before running out to the Apparating point, saying she was late for work. On the way, she tripped over a bucket, a chair and her own robe, which made him wonder which department in the Ministry she worked …Accidental Injuries.

"Where does she work?" he asked hesitantly, looking at the table, which consisted of Weasel, Mudblood, Gina (or was it Ginger) and Mrs. Weasley.

"She's an Auror," Gina replied.

"Her!" he exclaimed in surprise. "There must be a shortage of …"

"She's a Metamorphagus," Mudblood…Granger said, looking up from the book she was reading. Back at the Manor, if he had brought a book to the breakfast table, he would have been punished so hard he would have not been able to walk.

"Oh…" More information. "So…why the bad taste in clothing…?"

"Oh, shut up Malfoy." The Weasel must have been twitching to say that.

"But he's correct," Gina? said with a giggle. "She's got worse taste in fashion than Hagrid." She looked towards him and explained, "She's dating Remus."

"The werewolf!" That was a surprise.

"Why? You think just because he's a werewolf…" Weasel was very touchy.

"Not now, Ron," Granger intervened.

"But 'Mione, Bill isn't leaving his room because he might be a werewolf too and …"

"I didn't mean it that way," Draco said softly before Ron brought up his injured brother, injured as a result of Greyback, who had come to Hogwarts because of him.

"They're not really dating yet," Ron said.

"I though he had a thing with Sirius Black," Draco finally blurted out.

"What!" Ron said, and Draco looked away, not wanting to see half chewed toast first thing in the morning.

"Oh, Ron shut up!" Granger at least was neat. "There was a rumor, but it might not be true."

"I though thought werewolves mated for life," Gina said brightly, sounding like Luna Lovegood. "Maybe he's waiting for his true love."

"That'd make him a forty year old virgin, wouldn't it," Hermione said tartly. "Honestly, where do these ideas come from."

"I thought he and Potter had a thing," Draco finally blurted out, curiosity getting the better of him.

"What!" said little Weasel, Big Weasel and Granger in unison.

"You thought I was shagging Remus?" said an incredulous voice, and Draco looked up to meet a pair of green eyes half hidden behind a pair of glasses.


	3. Chapter 3:

Chapter 3: With a Little Complication Here and There.

Harry was tired by the time he crawled into bed. He was still a little dirty. Apparently, having a hosepipe ban meant less water for him and more for the garden. Changing into a pair of old shorts, Harry threw some owl pellets to Hedwig (Errol having recovered some time during the morning and flying home), then sat on his bed to re-read Ron's mysterious letter.

He could not decipher it completely. Ron had tried to include all the information in a fashion only known to him. 'We should come up with a letter writing code,' Harry thought, folding the letter and placing it on the bedside table. On second thought, he pushed it under his pillow. If Ron had taken time to write it in code, it might be important. He couldn't burn it before he understood it completely.

Absentmindedly, he scratched at a little dirt stuck under his fingernails. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He started to dream…

break 

_ i He was in a large room lit by tall white candles, which partially illuminated it. There appeared to be a faint breeze which made them flicker, throwing odd shadows. It made the room feel more sinister. In the far corner of the room stood a tall slim reptilian figure that he recognized instantly. Voldemort was dressed in a simple black robe which reached the ground, reminding Harry of Dementors. He was facing away from the room, looking out a window shrouded in darkness. Whatever he was looking at was hidden from view. Harry wondered what was of interest to the Dark Lord. _

_He wondered curiously as to why he was seeing this in third person. He usually saw through the eyes of his Voldemort himself. That he was standing separately, making him wonder whether it was a simple dream he was experiencing._

_There was a sound of footsteps, firm and confident. Lucius Malfoy swept into the room in a flurry of robes. He was dressed also in black, but with a red border which had an intricate design woven into it. Harry frowned, wondering whether it was a dream or a vision. Was Malfoy Sr. out of Azkaban, and if he was, where was he? _

_The Dark Lord did not turn around. Looking at the back of his hairless head, Harry was grateful that he did not have to put up with the sight of the red slits for eyes and the thin, lipless mouth. He did not think Dark Lords were into plastic surgery for appearance upgrades._

"_Luciussss." The voice was almost hypnotic._

"_It is done, my lord."The blond had knelt in the middle of the room as soon as Voldemort had spoken. Harry could see that his robe had flared out as he knelt. It pooled around his legs in a graceful swirl. It was obvious where Malfoy Jr. had gotten his flare for theatrics from. "I have sent him into the hands of those you seek."_

_The speech sounded so dramatic that Harry was sure in the next instant they were going to burst into song and dance. However, it just made Voldemort feel important, apparently._

"_So soon, Lucius." There was no hissing this time, only mild surprise and another emotion Harry couldn't define. "We have time until the Ceremony."_

"_It will give him time to ingratiate himself," Lucius said, looking up, slightly._

"_And how will this help the Ceremony?" _

"_It calls for a willing sacrifice, my lord," the blond man said smoothly. "This way we will be sure of one."_

"_How do you intend to find your son?" the Dark Lord asked softly. _

"What, no torture?"_ Harry thought. _

"_I put a location charm on him." Lucius was almost gloating. "One only a Malfoy could find, and follow anywhere in the world. No one will find it, my Lord, it's almost a part of him."_

"_Good," said Voldemort, turning around swiftly. Instantly, Harry was subjected to the sight of the face of his nightmares, with a feeling of triumph so great that he was pushed back to his body. /i _

Gasping for breath, onehand curled around an aching scar, Harry sat up in bed, cursing Dark Lords who refused to maintain regular hours. Why couldn't he have a meeting with his minions in broad daylight, like normal people did?

Harry sat on his bed, his hands curled around his legs, head resting on his knees, thinking over what he had heard. Before, in such an event, he could have written to Dumbledore or Sirius. Now there was no one, with the Order falling apart and school closing down. He didn't even know who headed the Order these days, McGonagall, Mr. Weasley, or perhaps Mad-Eye Moody, though that seemed unlikely.

He could not write to his friends. Apart from the fear that his letter might be intercepted, there was very little he could do. He was coming to realize just how much he had relied on Dumbledore to advise and think for him. All of a sudden, he felt more alone than he had felt before, with no one to turn to, or help him with his problems. It was like fourth year again. No matter how many friends he had, he had to go into the maze by himself. Not knowing what was around the corner, hoping what he had learned was enough to get him though. He had been lucky before, but luck had a way of running out when you least expected it.

Frustrated, he picked up the pillow he was leaning against and threw it across the room. It did not make him feel better, but revealed the letter from Ron. He stared at it for a moment, realizing that if the room was light enough for him to see it; the night was nearly over. Lucius had said Draco was gone, a tracking charm on him. Ron had said they had a ferret staying over with them. Did that mean by some chance Draco Malfoy was at the Burrow, where the Order Headquarters were, with a way to lead a horde of Death Eaters to them?

He just couldn't sit on his bed and let everything roll over him. He had to help his friends in whatever way possible. That decided, he felt better as he rushed to brush his teeth and put some clothes on. Once that was done, he pocketed his wand and stepped out, ignoring his aunt, who had been the first to wake up. If she thought he was going to cook breakfast, she was gravely mistaken. Taking a deep breath, Harry thought over his plan. It was simple, he had to go over to the Weasley's and warn them about Malfoy…Malfoy Jr.

He could fly, he supposed, but it was risky during daylight hours and he couldn't wait until nightfall. He could not risk flying hidden under his invisibility cloak, just in case it blew away. He really wasn't sure of the best way to fly to the Burrow. It wasn't as if he could ask for directions from birds.

HE HAD to Apparate, with or without his license. Deciding on that, he started to walk decisively towards the outer bounds of the wards that kept Privet Drive safe from the wizarding world. If he were to hurry, he would be able to return before his relatives and Ministry minders knew he was gone. He took a deep breath, tried to remember the Burrow from his memory, the odd leaning structure with the garden gnomes and all. Destination…think…focus…he decided somewhere on the outside would be safe. He wasn't confident enough to Apparate inside a house, and he was sure that there were some wizarding etiquettes against showing up inside a person's house unannounced, no matter how close you were. Then he Apparated…

He stood up shakily, his legs wobbling, wondering since when had Apparating gave him nosebleeds. Wiping the blood on his shirt sleeve, he walked towards the kitchen door and listened, listened to his best friends having a conversation with Draco Malfoy…about Remus Lupin's sex life.

He managed not to burst through and hex anyone when they suggested that his godfather had been a …pervert ("I thought he had a thing with Sirius Black ") as his uncle would call it, but when Malfoy went as far as to suggest that he had been shagging Remus ("I thought he and Potter had a thing") he decided to intervene.

break 

"Harry!" Ginny was the first to recover, rushing to her feet, running towards him with her arms outstretched.

"Ginny," he said affectionately, giving her a hug, realizing that he had not missed her as much as he'd expected to. Apparently, digging a pond was a lot more distracting than he'd thought. He was suddenly enveloped in a warm hug from Hermione, whose bushy hair had grown bushier, if it was possible.

"Hey there, mate," Ron said in surprise, after he had finally managed to swallow the piece of toast he had been chewing, and came forward to greet him. In the rush of things, Harry managed to overlook the very reason he'd come to the Burrow until Malfoy spoke.

"Potter," he said in an oddly strangled voice. Raising his head out of Hermione's hair, which smelled familiar and comfortable, Harry looked up straight into a pair of silver gray eyes regarding him with …dismay. "What are you doing here?"

The question seemed to snap everyone out of their friendly glow, and Hermione, ever the practical one, was the first to react. "Harry, what are you doing, leaving the protection of your aunt's…?"

"Some protection," Harry grumbled. "If you think digging a pond in the backyard is protecting me, you'd better try again. I'll die of heat stroke and sunburn before anything else gets to me."

"Honestly, Potter, what are you, a wizard or some Muggle?" Malfoy drawled, leaning back against his chair in a relaxed manner. "All you need to do is cast a shielding charm and…"

"Get called for a hearing for performing underage magic," Harry finished for him. Then he realized that this was Draco Malfoy, thinner and more battered looking, dressed in one of Ron's smaller t-shirts and jeans, sitting in the Burrow's kitchen, having breakfast with his friends. "Can someone tell me what's going on and …?" He suddenly remembered the reason for his visit. "Ron, call your mom and dad if possible. I had another …dream…" he said, looking around and finally glaring at Malfoy. "Can we talk …alone?"

"Is it the scar?" Ron asked sharply. Harry noted that Malfoy had given up his pretence of relaxed disdain, and was sitting upright in his chair, watching them closely.

"Not here…" Harry said, equally sharply, his eyes fixed on Malfoy. There had better be a good explanation as to why Malfoy was there, though he was not about to demand one in front of his school rival. He noted that Malfoy had a huge bruise on one side of his face and bags under his eyes.

"I'll leave," Malfoy said, pushing his chair back and standing up gracefully… before his legs seemed to give way from under him.

Though Hermione was closer, Harry reacted first -- perhaps a result of his Seeker instincts reached past his friends, grabbed Malfoy around the waist before he hit the floor, and helped him back on to the chair. Distracted as he was by everything, he noted that Malfoy hadn't gelled back his hair as he usually did at school, letting it fall loosely around his face, smelling faintly of blood, potions and spice. Up close, their height difference was obvious, the blond being at least half a head taller than him, his slenderness making him look taller.

He could feel the ribs clearly underneath the threadbare t-shirt. Ron had probably given Malfoy the oldest and most useless piece of clothing he had possessed. It even smelled slightly moldy, and beneath his palm, Malfoy's heart fluttered. It was the only inkling he got of his rival's state of mind as the blond sank back into the chair, as if he had always meant to do that.

Up close, Harry could see that the bruise which marred his face was not the only sign of injury the blond sported. There was another bruise leading down from his disappearing into the t-shirt. Harry fought the urge to put a finger on and pull the neck line so he could see how far it extended. He also noticed that as the blond sat down, he winced slightly, as if uncomfortable.

"I think you owe me an explanation," he said finally, running a hand through his hair, at a loss of anything to do._ 'Did I just put my hand around Malfoy's waist,' he thought in a pnicked voice. _ "But first, Hermione, call Mrs. Weasley."

"I'll do it," said Ginny, running towards the inner house, leaving the trio standing awkwardly with Malfoy seated next to them. Harry shifted from one leg to other as he waited for the arrival of his adoptive mother.

"Look, obviously Potter wants to know what I'm doing here, so someone please put him out of his misery," Malfoy drawled, looking confident once again. After saying this, he turned his attention to the single piece of toast he had on his plate since he'd come down for breakfast, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Shut up…" Ron started, then stopped himself with considerable effort. "Look, Harry, Snape brought him in yesterday right after…we sent that letter with the twins. He was pretty banged up, and we don't know what to do with him, so he stayed."

"What do you mean, banged up?" Harry asked, puzzled. He pushed up his glasses and looked at Hermione for an explanation. "By whom, Snape?"

"My father tortured and raped me, Potter." The famous Malfoy drawl did nothing to mask the pain in it. Even Ron winced. Harry could feel his face burning up at this revelation, and tried to think of an appropriate answer. 'You had it coming' didn't sound quite right, and 'Serves you right' sounded some what heartless. He finally settled for a somewhat obscure, but obvious comeback of, "Your father raped you?"

"Stating the obvious, are we?" Malfoy drawled back at him just as Mrs. Weasley bustled into the kitchen with an armload of laundry. From behind her came Ginny, looking a little flustered, trying to get her mother's attention, but failing to do so.

"Hello!" Harry said a little shyly, and froze at the expression on Mrs. Weasley's face. It was one of panic and terror. "Is something wrong?"

"What are you doing here?" she gasped, dropping the laundry onto the floor, echoing Malfoy's earlier question. She automatically pulled out her wand and enchanted the washing so it started to fly out the door one by one, probably to get attached to the wash line. "You have to go back now; what about the blood protection and …oh, I have to owl Arthur about this…"

"I'm sick of that bloody protection," Harry ground out, disregarding Mrs. Weasley's presence. He was sick of people telling him that his best interest lie in staying with his relatives, who were probably more dangerous than Voldemort and his Death Eaters put together. "They treat me like some blasted house-elf, and all I've done is dig a hole in the ground until I got blisters in my hands and sunburn…" He wasn't sure why the sunburn bothered him so much, apart from the fact it hurt every time he wore clothes.

"Look, dear, I know you really can't stay away from Ginny, I know what young romance is like… when I was dating Arthur, we couldn't be separated at all…" Mrs. Weasley continued in an oddly high pitched voice as she picked a piece of parchment and quill seemingly from thin air and started to write a letter. "…Ginny was moping around the house too, you know… ("I wasn't," Ginny muttered), but you really have to go back. It's not safe here at all…"

"I didn't come here for Ginny," Harry ground out through teeth that seemed to be stuck together. "I came because…"

"Harry, you really should go back," Hermione said. "It isn't safe here, you know…"

"She's right, mate…" Ron injected with feeling.

"Hermione, I wanted to ask you about location charms," Harry tried to plow through his friends' chatter without much success.

"There are people watching over you at home, and they must be extremely worried," Mrs. Weasley chattered on, tying the letter to Errol's leg and giving the owl a push out the window. Harry watched, a little distracted as the owl fell on its back to the ground, picked itself up, looked around, a little stunned. It turned around in a circle before becoming airborne with some difficulty, as if the letter was a brick tied to its leg. "Ginny can wait a bit without you…"

"Location charms, Harry?" Hermione asked, her head snapping up in interest.

"We'll owl you about it when you go back, mate," Ron said.

Perhaps it was the inability to get his message through, or the fact they were all ignoring him and trying to get rid of him as fast as possible, that caused Harry finally lost his temper. The glass on the table exploded, followed by the water jug, window, and then the dishes started to blow up one by one while the occupants in the room fell silent. Even when he had gotten their full attention, Harry found out he couldn't control himself. Almost two weeks of build-up frustration and anger came out in a wave of uncontrollable magic, causing the house to tremble.

Ginny suddenly sprang to action. "Harry, stop it, stop it!" she cried , throwing herself at him and hitting him in the chest with closed fists. It finally snapped him back to reality, and he saw, for the first time, the destruction his magic had caused, in the form of fragments of glass and wood.

"Potter," Malfoy ground out in a strangled voice. "Have you considered taking anger management therapy?"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry said automatically, collapsing into the closet chair. "Will you all just shut up and listen to me, please." He took off his glasses, placed them on the table, and ran a hand over his eyes. "I…" He took a deep breath and looked at Malfoy, then shrugged. "I had a vision yesterday…about Malfoy…Lucius," he said. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Malfoy Jr., but ignored it. "He was with Voldemort and they were talking about some Ceremony. And he said he'd put a location charm on Malfoy…" he gestured his hand towards the seated blond, "…Draco, that is."

"Accio Advanced Book of Charms," Hermione said, sitting down just as the book came flying into her hand. She looked up without opening the book and looked at Malfoy. "Location charms are objects… most of the time, but we burned all the clothes you came in. I really don't think it survived if it was on you." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Malfoy, causing him to flinch. "Just to be sure," she said, and muttered something too fast for any of them to recognize.

"I'm sorry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said in a small voice. "I just got carried away when I saw you."

"It's ok, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, looking up, the room blurry since he had taken his glasses off. "I'm sorry about the mess I caused now."

"It's all right, dear," she said, taking out her wand. "How about some breakfast?"

"That'll be lovely," Harry said, smiling for the first time. He wasn't about to turn down free food after being starved to death. As he piled his plate with food, he tried to ignore Ron, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, who were casting some household repair charms to get everything back to normal. Turning around, he noticed that Malfoy was very still with a piece of toast in his mouth, but making no move to bite it.

"He wouldn't," Malfoy finally said.

"What?"

"Put a location charm on me," he said, sounding perplexed. "He wouldn't."

"We'll know in a few minutes, Malfoy," Hermione said firmly. "I put a charm on you which will show any spells."

Malfoy choked on his toast and started to cough, a painful dry cough which made him double up and clutch his side. Ron enthusiastically leaned forward and thumped him on the back harder than necessary.

"Ron," Hermione said sharply. "Don't break any more ribs. I'll have to put them together again, since Madam Pomfrey can't come over at the moment."

"Sorry," Ron said unconvincingly, as Malfoy continued to cough.

"Someone rub his chest or something," Hermione finally said, looking up from the book she was leafing through.

No one made a move until Harry leaned across from his chair and put out his hand. He wasn't sure if rubbing the chest over his t-shirt was better, or whether he should pull it up. As he placed his palm on the other boy's chest, he drew away, gasping for breath.

"Touch me and you die Potter," he snarled out in a small voice, his eyes full of tears from coughing too much.

"How did you come here?" Hermione asked, looking up. "Knight Bus?"

"I Apparated," Harry said, feeling a little embarrassed and knowing what was coming.

"Without your license!" Hermione exclaimed, just as Ron said, "Way to go, mate."

"I couldn't fly and I didn't even remember the bus…"

"But we have an alarm at the Apparition point," Ron said thoughtfully. "We didn't hear it."

"I just Apparated to the back yard," Harry said, as Mrs. Weasley gasped.

"You couldn't have," she said. "We have Anti-Apparition charms in place there."

"But…" Harry said, feeling confused. "Maybe they're not there."

"They were there in the morning…" Hermione protested, getting up with her wand drawn, looking as if she was about to go to battle. "I don't think anyone pulled them down, but I'll just go and check now."

"Maybe Potter broke through them," Malfoy suggested, recovering from his choking fit. "That would explain how he got his nosebleed."

"But it takes a very powerful wizard to break through such wards…" Ron started, trailing off, looking at Harry as if he had grown a new head.

Harry looked up from his food, suddenly not very hungry, wondering if some more of his freakiness was about to manifest when Malfoy hummed. Actually, it was more as if his body hummed. They all turned to look at Malfoy, whose face had a look of despair and disbelief written on it…for his body was criss-crossed with purple lines that ran over him and through his clothes, circled his wrists and neck, stopping just short of his pointed chin.

"You were right, Harry," Hermione said, looking up. "He's got a location charm on him."

"I knew it," Ron said, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Malfoy, who did not even bother to flinch. His shoulders slumped and his face had a tired look.

"I didn't know it was there," he said softly.

"That's what you say, Death Eater," Ron said, swinging his wand in an arch, which made Harry duck. "When I'm through with you…"

"Ron, stop it," Hermione snapped. "It's our fault for not checking him for hexes and spells when he was first brought in. I just cast a few to see if he was hurt by any magic, not to check if he was carrying any more magic on him. I really don't think Malfoy would have been stupid enough to show up with a charm cast on him a second year student could have dealt with." At that, Ron and Harry exchanged a look of disbelief.

"What…"

"You are not going to do anything to him," she said firmly; she pulled out her wand, casting a spell on him. Malfoy flinched as the purple bindings changed to blue and thinner threads. "That makes it pretty useless to anyone who wants to track him," she said. "I can't remove it until I'm sure it won't hurt him."

"But…"

"No buts," she said firmly, looking at everyone in the room. "I patched him up, so no one's going to hurt him; understood?" When she was in that mood, no one interfered.

Harry expected Malfoy to say something inappropriate, but for once, he seemed to realize that keeping his mouth shut might be the wisest thing to do.

"Mrs. Weasley, how long before everyone gets here?" he asked instead.

"Soon," Mrs. Weasley said, looking agitated. "Ron, can I borrow Pig? I might as well owl Arthur with this new development…" Harry bit back a comment about how if she had actually listened to him, she would not have to send extra owls.

"Harry, about your…" Hermione looked at Malfoy, then continued, "…dream…. Can we talk in private? I want to know about the Ceremony and everything."

Harry nodded, wondering why something hadn't felt right. Finding the location charm had been too easy… almost as if it had wanted to be found. "What about him?" he asked, gesturing towards Malfoy.

"Mrs. Weasley can keep an eye on him," Hermione said. "It's not like he's in any condition to go anywhere."

"I'll pretend I'm a piece of furniture. That way you can keep on talking as if I don't exist," Malfoy drawled, still playing with his piece of toast.

"Sure," said Harry, leaning back against his chair, wincing as his skin reminded him of his long days spent in the sun.

"I forgot about your sunburn, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, opening one of the kitchen drawers, pulling out a jar of salve. "This is good for anything," she said. "If you could just take your shirt off…" Malfoy choked on his piece of toast again and was thumped on the back by Ginny.

Harry took off the shirt and tried to look behind him. "Wouldn't a simple healing spell do?" he asked.

"I just want to see how bad it is," Mrs. Weasley said, while Harry tried to look over his shoulder at his back.

Malfoy dropped the piece of toast, cursed, leaned forward, and took Harry's glasses, which were still on the table. Then he calmly snapped them in two.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:"Different Perspective".

Draco sat on a comfortable, but somewhat threadbare, chair in the sitting room. He was looking at the kitchen door (which was firmly shut), behind which a discussion was going on. They had magically bound him to the chair. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it restricted his movements; not that he had anywhere else to go.

They were having some sort of meeting, _again_, which centered on Potter, _obviously_. Probably about the vision he'd had, which was disturbing. Who was he kidding? Draco was very worried. It had taken a whole lot of effort not to jump out of the chair and run when they'd found the location charm on him. Not that he could run. He couldn't believe his father had done that to him, sending him into the hands of the enemy with something so blatant.

'They are probably trying to decide whether I'm a spy or not,' he thought. 'Only why was it taking them four days to come to any decision.' Five, if he was to count the first day Potter had barreled in with his revelations and nosebleeds. The Ceremony and the dream, who knew Potter was able to see these things? How had Potter done that?

Bloody saint Potter, who'd shown up at breakfast in a pair of rolled up jeans and a shirt five sizes too large for him. Potter, with dirt under his fingernails and so much power he leaked. He'd caused the room to explode when he'd lost his temper and Apparated through wards as if they were paper. With his messy hair, out of fashion glasses and …and…

Draco hated Potter with a vengeance. Hated the way he had casually strolled into the kitchen, looking so bloody shaggable in a rumpled kind of way, and hugging Weaselette, his girlfriend, in front of _him_. He'd wanted to kill both of them.

Perfect Potter, who'd always ignored him unless he went out of his way to get his attention. He'd pull pranks and childish tricks just to annoy him. He'd have to strip naked and lie flat on the Gryffindor table, during breakfast rush hour, to get Potter's attention at school. That is, when he wasn't too busy either jumping in Potter's path, doing the most annoying things, or like last year, fixing broken household furniture in the Room of Requirement.

Potter, who'd offered to rub his chest while he'd coughed, with no idea of the effect it would have on him, as if it was the most ordinary thing in the whole world. That was why he hated him. Hated him so much that he would toss and turn in his bed, unable to sleep, wanting to put his hands around his neck. He wasn't sure whether he'd kiss him or kill him.

His childish need to befriend the Boy-Who-Lived had grown into an emotional turmoil. He was too scared to analyze it. It had been much easier to hate his object of unrest, so oblivious to the effect he had on Draco. The way he had waltzed into the kitchen and taken his shirt off…for Merlin's' sake. How he was not supposed to react to that? Those brown nipples…

The most wanted male in the entire school had taken his clothes…well, technically, some of his clothes off in front of him, totally unmindful that Draco was all but drooling on his toast. In no time at all, the toast had become a soggy mess and …

That body. He had said he was sunburnt and scrawny. Harry Potter had the perfect body, down to his dark nipples, scars, perfect muscles and … (W_rong track, think of something else_). Those green eyes stared right at him without even seeing him. What an insult it had been, to be ignored by the guy of his dreams. He had been so angry; he had been overcome with a childish desire to hurt Potter in every way possible, hence breaking his glasses.

To think Potter had overlooked the effect he was having on Draco, who had been having wet dreams about Potter since …since as far as he could remember. How could Potter be so dense? He hadn't seen Potter since that day, so all he'd been left with had been a memory. And that memory alone had been torture, so much so in this house where there was no such thing as privacy. Apparently, the Weasleys had no concept of personal space. He couldn't lock himself in a room without people threatening to burst in. If they were to break down the door, they'd have accused Draco of carrying out some obscure Death Eater ritual that required him to unzip his pants.

Wanking off at night was impossible without a wand to clean up the mess. He did not want to leave a telltale mess on the bed. He was a Malfoy first and foremost, and they were not messy. Which left the showers, cold or otherwise, but unfortunately his luck seemed to have run out again. The Burrow did not have showers, but instead, a large bathtub where, horror of horrors-- the entire family bathed. They did not have house-elves so they cleaned it themselves. Draco would rather wind up dead than get in a bathtub that had been previously used by any of the numerous people in the house. What if they had wanked off in the bathtub just before he'd gotten in? Malfoys did not bath in communal bathtubs, it was unheard of.

When the kitchen door opened slightly and his cousin peeked out, Draco was so busy in his internal monologue that he didn't notice her until he looked up. "Am I disturbing you?" she asked with a grin, which said just the opposite.

Draco bit his tongue rather than answer, "Yes, I was thinking of a good place to wank over Potter"'. He did not think they would be _that_ understanding about him.

"They want to see you now," she said, and opened the door fully, pulled out her wand and undid the magical binds on him. He sat up carefully, remembering not to make any sudden movements. His body had recovered, but apparently not enough for him to jump up and do a tap dance. He walked in a dignified manner, shoulders back, with casual steps, as if he was taking a stroll. A stroll that made his upper lip sweat a little.

"Sit down, Draco," said the werewolf, who was the only one kind to him. Lupin and his cousin were in the kitchen alone. Draco suppressed the feeling of disappointment at Potter's absence, surprised he'd even felt that. He didn't care whether Potter had forgotten he was living with the Weasleys or not, really.

"Thank you." There was no need to behave like an animal just because he was living in a zoo.

"Tea?" Tonks asked.

'_Is it laced with arsenic?'_ "Thank you." He sipped the tea carefully, aware of a slight bitter taste to it. He had been expecting it much sooner, Veritaserum, perhaps not much, but enough to make him talk. Fortunately, a Malfoy was never without defenses, including the ability to taste the truth serum in other foods. He had to be careful and answer the question in a way it would not implicate himself. The knowledge that he had taken the truth serum gave him enough ammunition to fight it. To not answer back with the first thing that came to his mind, but to slow down and think before replying.

"Are you feeling better now?" Lupin asked.

"Yes…thank you."

"You'll be happy to know you have no more tracing spells or anything on you…"

He stopped himself from saying thank you again. They hadn't checked him for potions. Not that the potion he had been given would have worn off, having done what it was supposed to do. He wondered what exactly his father had given him, an accelerated potion perhaps, something that was even more uncomfortable than normal. Not that he could tell the difference, with all the aches and pains he had been having from the nice father-son bonding session they'd had. He wondered when he'd start to show, and what to do when that happened. Hopefully, he and his intended victim would be out of this miserable place by then. Soon, he thought, absentmindedly rubbing his stomach, where, most likely, his father's bastard rested.

They questioned him and he answered. Did he know where his father was?

"No."

At that very moment his father could be in Madagascar, for all he knew. Did he do this… do those…? Did he know about…Nothing dangerous and nothing too clever. They did not question him about Potter's dream; they probably thought they were withholding information when it was just the other way around. A s_tupid_ bunch of idiots who thought that, just because he was with them when that _stupid_ dream had taken place, he knew nothing about it. It made him feel a little better knowing that he was backing the right side in the war, knowing they were up against such incompetent opposition.

He was finally allowed to go upstairs to the room he shared with Weasel. He walked up slowly, his legs stiff from sitting with his back straight (a Malfoy never slumped).

He walked up leisurely, going over the conversation he'd had with his… wardens (?), listening for any sign of conversation from downstairs. There probably had been someone else in the room, Mad-Eye Moody, perhaps, hidden beneath an invisibility cloak, not wanting to be seen in the kitchen by a former Death Eater, albeit one from a very outer circle.

He slowed, feeling the floor under his bare feet. None of the shoes at the Burrow fit him. No one had offered to transfigure a pair for him that would fit, so that his ankle and toes would have been able to bear it. So he'd been reduced to padding around on bare feet in tatty clothes, which even the Weasel wouldn't be seen dead in. After the first day, he hadn't made much made headway with the Weasel. He'd tried being polite, calling them by their first names whenever possible (that is, when he remembered to) but none of them seemed to have warmed up to him. At least not enough to be able to lead one of them outside the wards.

A Malfoy never eavesdropped. He listens to information that might be vital for future survival. This was why he carefully fell to his knees, making sure not to make any noise, and pressed his ear to the door.

"…Lavender got information from us," Mudblood was ranting in a high-pitched voice, which probably rendered anyone within a mile deaf. "She's a slut who…"

"Can we change the topic?" Potter asked mildly. Apparently, he was still here in his friend's bedroom, talking to his pals.

"Yes, Mione, just change the topic," Weasel said, trying to sound as if he was agreeing with Potter, and not distracting his current girlfriend from talking about his ex. Interesting. However, Mudblood was a lot smarter than her boyfriend.

"Ron, if you think just because you went around school with your face glued to hers …"

"We were all there," the little Weaslette answered.

"Yes, it was about the time you and Harry hooked up," Weasel said, sounding loud. "Too bad you two broke up…" i That was news /i "…but surely it's not too bad. You can get together again…" Trust him to pimp his own sister.

"Ron," Ginny protested loudly. "How many times have I told you it's not going to work? Harry and I have broken up, so give it a rest. Honestly, you're as bad as Mom at times."

"Why not…" protested Ron, oblivious to the keep-quiet whispers Mudblood was throwing at him. "You got on fine at school, and he's better than all those boys you used to date. Just because he thinks you are going to get hurt, he can't just bring it to a halt…"

"Ron, it was over even before he called it to a stop," Weaslette said a little loudly, and there was silence in the room as everyone processed the information.

"What do you mean?" Potter asked in a small voice, sounding hurt and confused. "I thought it was going well… we were snogging and…"

Weasel made a chocking sound at the information. "Hey, that's my sister you're talking about."

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Ginny said sharply. "It isn't as if you and Hermione don't do anything; or is it because you two do everything? The problem was that that was all we ever did."

"You wanted more," Potter asked in an equally choked voice. The Mudblood coughed in an embarrassed way. He wasn't sure whether Potter was embarrassed because of what his ex-girlfriend had said, or was simply uncomfortable discussing his (lack of) sex life.

"No," Ginny said sharply. "We just wouldn't have had the time to, with you disappearing after Malfoy and being Quidditch captain and … it wouldn't have felt right." So Potter had been stalking him, how flattering.

"Let's talk about something else, shall we," Potter tried again; obviously his lack of success in his love life was not an open topic. "Ron said you two were fighting. Why?"

"Because of you, really," Weaslette said in a small voice, actually sounding ashamed.

"What… why…"

"Harry, it isn't really a good topic to talk about…" Mudblood said tentatively. i Oooh, that's going to deter him nicely. Just bring out the interesting stuff and tell him to look the other way. /i 

"Just tell me, Hermione!" Potter ground out. i Temper, temper. Whoever said Weasel had a temper. Didn't know much about Potter" /i .

"It was about us …our relationship …it was…too tame," Ginny supplied helpfully.

"What!" Weasel exclaimed.

"There was something missing," Weaslette said thoughtfully. "Look at you and Hermione, you're always squabbling, but you still love each other. In my case, I think, for a long time, I liked Harry because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, but afterwards, when we started dating, he didn't kiss any different from Dean."

"So you mean I kiss normally, compared to what…" Potter asked, his voice a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The Weasel wasn't helping the situation by starting to rant, in a voice he probably believed was low-key, about all his sister's boyfriends. "You wanted us to fight…" Yes, Potter was denser than he let on.

"No, Harry, you didn't even want to take it to the next step…"

"I can't believe you said that," Potter exclaimed. "There's Malfoy, who thinks I'm carrying on with Remus, and you wanted us to shag."

"I can't believe it either," Weasel said loudly. It wasn't as if he and Mudblood weren't trying to create the next generation of redheads already.

"But Ginny, we tried and…" Potter stammered, embarrassed, but unwilling to let the subject rest until it was brought out to into the open.

"What!" Both Mudblood and Weasel sounded shocked that their precious friend had tried to have an intimate moment with his girlfriend. Maybe all they ever did was play footsie in the library.

"Harry…" Weaslette said, speaking patiently, as if to a small child, "the time we tried to do it, once, you wouldn't even try again after that… you couldn't even get it up…" Potter had a problematic sex life, by the sound of it. Draco doubted if anyone could get anything up with a female redhead, but that did not come up as a discussion topic.

"I…I was tired… we had Quidditch training and…"

"Yeah, there're times when I'm so tired I can barely get my head up," Weasel said. There was a long silence in the room when finally the Weasel realized what the others were talking about. Maybe having had too many kids weakened the blood and made them extra stupid. Draco leaned against the door in a more comfortable manner and listened to Weasel choke, with a look of glee on his face.

"You and…Harry?"

"We didn't do anything, Ron," Potter reassured his friend in a tired voice.

"Should bloody well hope not," Mudblood said firmly. So she and Weasel probably played Exploding Snap in their free time and were waiting to be properly married before they had sex. Bloody Hufflepuffs.

"No one has perfect love lives," Potter rumbled. "I was tired." Still trying to defend his equipment failure.

"I don't mean it in a bad way… I just thought there would be fireworks and explosions, but it was so ordinary…" Weaslette trailed off. Draco frowned, wondering how anyone could think Potter's equipment was ordinary, before he realized she meant their relationship.

"At least you didn't expect to hear a harp playing in the background," Mudblood said a little sharply. "I think Harry likes you a lot. You really shouldn't be saying those things after coming to me crying about how he ignores you, and doesn't notice unless you are kidnapped by a mad Dark Wizard, or a basilisk."

"Well…"

"So, mate, you couldn't get it up. No big deal…" Draco heard footsteps coming up and straightened hurriedly, wincing as his knee made a snapping sound. "…having…erection…problems," Weasel was trying to plough on, when Draco swiftly opened the door and walked in.

There was a silence in the room which couldn't have suited him better. Mudblood and the Weasel were sitting on Weasel's bed while Potter alone was sitting on the bed he slept in, leaning against the wall and facing his friends. He remembered that Potter had slept in it before he had, so he probably had chosen to sit on it out of habit. "Erection problems," Draco said, pretending to have caught the last two words in the conversation. "Who's having those…you…?"

"No…it was just a conversation topic," Weasel said, stealing a glance towards Potter, who was sitting rigidly, playing with his hair, looking as red as Weasel's hair. Did he know how adorable he looked with that red tinge on his cheeks?

"Unless I'm mistaken, such topics don't arise unless you have such a complaint," Draco drawled. "Who'd have thought you'd have such a problem?"

"What if…I do…?" So Weasel was ever the loyal Gryffindor, ready to defend his friends, even if it meant making a fool of himself.

Draco smirked at Weasel, the fool. So why did he feel a little envious of Potter for having such friends? "So Weasel has a penis problem. There are charms, you know, to make them stiffen…"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Potter ground out, obviously still embarrassed, but trying not to sound so. "He doesn't have a problem, I do."

"No, he doesn't, I do," Mudblood jumped in.

"Trust me, Granger." It was not wise to call her Mudblood in a room full of armed Gryffindors. "…you don't have the equipment."

"Err…"

"Just give it a rest," Weaslette said, jumping out of bed, looking embarrassed that she had caused such a problem. "Just…people usually have problems with their sex lives, you know…"

"So, it's a group thing? Is it just Gryffindors, or is it catching?" he asked in mock horror, enjoying himself. Then he casually strolled up to the bed where Potter was sitting, and threw himself onto it as elegantly as his ratty clothes would let him Then he rolled a little, making it look accidental, so his head was resting somewhere close to Potter's knees. Why pass up such a good opportunity!

The footsteps he had heard downstairs finally reached the top. Apparently, whoever the person was who had disturbed his eavesdropping session had stopped to talk to someone before coming up. The footsteps stopped at the room door, and a few seconds later, Mrs. Weasley emerged, looking red and flustered.

She looked at the collection of teenagers seated on the beds and smiled at them, though her eyes settled on Draco and Harry lying together, rather closely, a little longer than on the others. "I ran into the twins while I was at Diagon Alley," she told them. "I dragged them home for lunch for a change."

Harry looked at her a little uneasily. "Do they know I'm …we're here?" Potter asked, gesturing towards Draco.

"No harm done, by telling them, really," Mrs. Weasley said, looking a little apologetic. "They're downstairs talking to Tonks about a new product of theirs they want to try out. Harry, dear, you will be staying for lunch today?"

"If it's not too much of a bother," said Potter, brightening up, so much so, Draco decided that either he was fond of the food or didn't want to go back to his relatives.

"Not at all, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, totally different from the woman who'd tried to push Potter out the day he had come waltzing through the wards. "I'd better get going …we'll be having guests for lunch today. "Alastor said he'd come by, if possible." Draco stiffened, remembering the ferret incident. Seeing his discomfort, Weasel sniggered.

"What, Malfoy, scared?" He sneered at him.

"You wish, Wea…Ron," he said, after a few seconds of silence, composing himself.

"I heard you made a lovely ferret," Weaslette said, with a snarl. She had her brother's temper and hadn't forgiven him for his crack about the boyfriend... or was it her ex-boyfriend? He knew little about her, but enough to know that she had Slytherin qualities. She would let her precious boyfriend get away only so far. As long as he was near her, she could always reel him back in.

He, however, did not have a comeback about his ferret issue. Instead, he snorted derisively and shifted, forgetting for a moment that he had been lying next to Potter. The top of his head bumped against Potter's leg gently. He froze, hoping no one had noticed it, but it was wishful thinking.

"Get away from him, Harry," Weasel said with a snarl. "Don't go…"

"It's ok, Ron," Potter said in a calm but firm voice. He probably didn't feel like sitting next to a girl who had just announced that he had an erection problem to two of his best friends.

"'Arry," Weasel protested.

"It's not like Malfoy has anything catching," Mudblood said, snapping at Weasel. She pulled out another book from under the bed and started to flip through it. She read constantly, he found out, and he secretly admired her for her persistence. She could recall the most amazing facts and was probably the cleverest in the entire school, honestly.

"Yes, but he's rubbing against Harry," Weasel said, before snapping his mouth shut as what he'd just said became clear.

Potter, however, seemed to find the whole exchange amusing. "It's just his head," said Potter. He casually dropped a hand and stroked the top of his head. Draco's world tilted for a moment. He actually stopped breathing for a moment. Potter was touching him, without any intention to hurt him. Not that Potter had anything in mind, but still it was nice. He felt he was going to die from pure bliss, because the world's biggest prat had patted him on the top of the head… In fact, he was sure the end of the world was near…

'Bang…'

Draco jumped. Potter went for his wand. Granger dropped her book. Weasel squeaked.

Weaslette jumped off the bed and rushed to hug her two brothers, who had made another heart stopping entrance.

"Mom said you two were here," she said with enthusiasm. She probably thought that having the twins there would distract Potter from what she had said before. "Did you bring anything with you?"

"How is she?" one of the twins asked, sitting on the bed that had been occupied solely by the Gryffindor.

"Mom?" said Weasel, looking up. "She looked fine to me. Why?"

"The reason we came with her was because we didn't think we should let her come home alone," the other twin said, sitting next to Potter on the second bed, forcing Potter to shift a little until his leg brushed Draco's shoulder as well.

"What happened?" asked Potter with interest, putting his leg out of Draco's reach, but not completely away. Draco did not think he could go for the wand though. Potter did have quicker reflexes than him, and he was not up to having a wrestling matching with Potter over a wand. There were too many people in the room who could hex him over a wrong move. In other week's time, he would be out of this miserable house and its occupants for good …and back with his wand.

He tried not to think of what would happen afterwards. It was a deal he had made with his father, after he had been tortured, into agreeing. A life for a life. One for his mother and the other for himself. Once it was over, he was free to go and do whatever he wanted. No longer a Malfoy in anything but name, with enough money to see him through.

He froze. The twins were saying something inconsequential about their mother having a run -in with Percy…who… ah, yes, the Weasel who had deserted the close family unit for glory, and how she'd tried to bring him home for lunch and how he had been rude to her.

That was not the reason he had frozen. Potter was stroking his head.

"..came across her talking to him, and then he starts yelling at her…" One finger curled around a loose strand of hair, pulled in a bit, and wound it around a finger.

"…she was so upset, almost crying, so we thought we'd drop everything and come with her…"

The finger became two, and then a whole hand dug deeper into his scalp, almost caressing his fringe. Draco fought to urge to turn around and bury his head in the mattress, so Potter's fingers could continue its journey downwards to his neck, and then…

"…don't know why she even bothers with that git," Weasel said. Ah, yes, lack of vocabulary meant 'git' was a very big insult; though Draco didn't quite know what it meant. Certain words tended to loose lose their effect when overused. Please, let them all be distracted so they wouldn't see Potter playing with his hair.

"…Harry," Mudblood's voice broke through his reverie, "why are you petting Malfoy?" He was going to hex to next week. She was going to suffer…

"It…feels nice," Potter said. The silence in the room was deafening. Draco fought the urge to sit up, tilt his head to the side, and poke his ear with a finger to prove he could still hear.

"What!" Weaslette exploded.

"It's soft," Potter said, in a small but defiant voice. "I really didn't notice it until Hermione pointed it out. My hand, I mean…not the hair." The hand slowly withdrew when it became apparent more that one strand of hair had gotten attached, and Draco all but wept at the loss. "Sorry, Malfoy."

_ i Don't stop, just touch me all over_. /i "Potter…"

"Don't start now, Malfoy," Potter said warily. "You just seem nice when you keep your mouth shut."

"You were touching his hair," Weasel repeated, sounding as if Potter was caught eating raw, flesh-eating slugs.

"And I liked it," Potter said firmly.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Attack.

Dear Father,

I have been here in these less than optimal living conditions for six days. Hopefully, my stay here will be no longer than necessary. I have found out very little about the activities of what they call the Order, since nothing seems to be happening.

My inquiries about Snape have been met with blank looks. They all dislike him strongly, but I am not sure if he's working for or against us. He could have brought me here for my own safety, not because he had connections with these people. Being unconscious at the time of arrival, I do not know how exactly my transition into this household proceeded.

Potter has been here twice. He does not have an Apparating license, but seems to be able to move without detection. I would suggest caution when you want to abduct one of his friends. Harming Potter could be disastrous to your plans. He may be some sort of seer, since he had had a vision of you talking to the Dark Lord in one of the inner ritual chambers. He has heard mention of the Ceremony, but does not know the significance of it. Please make sure there is no informant inside the Manor, since all the effort you have spent would go to waste.

Aurors Moody and Nymphadora Tonks have been here. They keep this so-called secret organization informed on Ministry duties, along with Mr. Weasley. You would be interested to know Tonks is a Metamorphmagus.

Remus Lupin seems to be a permanent member of the household. He is involved in some sort of relationship with Tonks. The oldest Weasley has been transferred to St. Mungo's due to a werewolf bite (not Lupin's). The twins are no longer living in the house. Only the two youngest Weasleys, Mrs. Weasley and Granger reside in the house. Even Mr. Weasley seems to be absent.

They discovered and removed the Tracking Charm you put on me. When I return, I would like to know why you did such a thing, since the best Tracking Charm in the world is inside me.

Security here is very lax. These secret society members are without any form of supervision. I will stop now. I will be writing to you soon, when there is anything to report.

Yours,

Draco

P.S. The owl I'm sending this by is called Pig. Why the Weasley named it Pig is beyond me. But please do not maim it, since it would be missed here. It is extremely erratic, so I would suggest stunning it.

Harry decided on breakfast with the Weasleys that day. He had Apparated without a license twice and had not been detected either time. He was getting more confident about his abilities and going undetected. He wondered if the Ministry monitored Apparitions the same way they monitored underage magic. Since he had people watching over him, there was enough magical activity around his area for his Apparating to and from to be undetected or passed over as someone else's.

He packed his shopping in a backpack, which had belonged to Dudley, and Apparated to The Burrow in the blink of an eye. He walked through the back door, pausing to wipe his feet on a carpet which stuck to his feet with enthusiasm. Pulling free from the sucking carpet, which actually made an effort to crawl after him for a couple of steps, Harry stepped in to the kitchen, letting the door bang shut behind him.

"Harry." One of the twins was the first to greet him. "What brings you here?"

"I just…" he said, watching the twins carefully arrange the dishes on the table. "Where's everybody?"

"Investigating an explosion in the basement," the other twin said, winking at him.

"What did you do this time?" Harry asked, biting back a laugh.

"It was purely …"

"…a form of distraction."

"We've got to go, but before we do…"

"…a word of advice. Watch what you eat."

With that, the twins left for the Apparating point, waving at him in a jaunty manner. He watched their retreating backs, wondering what exactly they had done, when there was the sound of footsteps. Hermione appeared at the doorway, her hair standing straight up, soot marks all over her face.

"Harry, you came," she said, looking slightly worried.

"I can't believe they set up those smoke bombs under the …" Ron appeared, looking equally messy, followed by Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, both of whom looked flustered and grimy.

"Where are they?" Mrs. Weasley stormed in, looking murderous. "Harry!" she exclaimed with a look of horror on her face, and Harry looked around see if there was something bearing down on him. "What are you doing here?"

"Do we have to go through this again," Ginny said, pushing past her mother. "Harry probably came for a visit, unless he's had one of his dreams." She looked at him inquiringly, and he shook his head. "Quit acting as if every time you see him is the first time, Mum."

"But you didn't say anything about coming here today when you left yesterday," Mrs. Weasley said, looking flustered. "Where're the twins?"

"Just left," Harry said, looking at the breakfast table, wondering what they had done. "Where's Malfoy?"

"Upstairs," Ron said with a scowl. "Just let him be."

"I thought I'd…"

"Ron, dear, where's Pig?" Mrs. Weasley interrupted.

"In my room," Ron said, brushing some soot from his hair. "Why do you need him?"

"I want to send a letter to Moody about Harry being with us," she said, looking annoyed. "I suppose you didn't tell your watchers where you were going today either?"

"Sorry," said Harry, looking down at his scruffy sneakers, feeling embarrassed.

"Just fire call him, Mum," Ron said with irritation.

"Can't," Mrs. Weasley said, looking unhappy. "You know how Moody is like with the Floo, and the fire network being under Ministry supervision."

"But wouldn't it be safer than sending a letter?" Hermione pointed out, using a spell to remove the last trace of soot from her face.

"We have a code," Mrs. Weasley said evasively, looking around, probably in the hope that the twins were waiting to see the results of their antics.

"They left just as I came," Harry said helpfully. "I don't think they would hang around to see how much damage they've done."

"Which can't be used over the Floo network?" Hermione persisted, then stopped as Malfoy appeared at the top of the staircase.

He was dressed in a small pink t-shirt (probably Ginny's) and a pair of old, too big jeans he was wearing low on his hips. Though tall, Malfoy wasn't as tall as Ron. Ron's jeans had to be folded twice so they wouldn't drag on the ground. Harry knew from experience that the t-shirt rode up occasionally, revealing a bare strip of skin and protruding hip bones. He had watched the t-shirt ride up just the day before, feeling slightly unsettled by the sight of bare white skin, the boney hip bones and the faint trace of hair just visible at the edge of the waistband . He remembered feeling slightly fascinated, waiting for the blond to breathe in so that the skin would be exposed. Long fingers had itched to trail along the edge. This was probably the main reason for his shopping trip, to cover up the disturbing vision.

Malfoy looked different from school; his hair hanging loose, framing his face like a halo, one of his bare feet worrying the other, as he stood at the top of the stairway. Harry wondered what Malfoy thought of the odd gathering of soot-covered individuals at the bottom of the staircase.

"Came for breakfast, did you?" Ron said rudely, as if hoping Malfoy would turn around and go back to the room. Harry frowned at the tone Ron used. Malfoy had been bearable as far as Harry could see, and though the blond was polite to Ron and Hermione, his friend seemed to be out on a mission to make Malfoy's life as miserable as possible. Harry knew what it was like to be beaten by your own relatives, neglected, and dressed in old clothes that did not fit.

There were also a few conflicting images, like the one of Malfoy crying in front of the sink. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he would always have the memory of Malfoy dropping his wand instead of killing Dumbledore. He knew that, deep inside, Malfoy wasn't all-bad.

Ron really wasn't helping the issue by constantly being rude to Malfoy, even though the boy was making an effort to befriend Ron. He never complained about being dressed his in castoffs, or when Ron baited him deliberately.

"Pink, Malfoy," Ron said with a derisive laugh. "Suits you."

"Thank you," Malfoy said, walking slowly. Harry knew from experience that he was trying hard not to limp. "Weasley, your owl just flew out the window. I opened it for a bit and the thing just shot out like a Snitch."

"We can use Errol," Hermione said helpfully.

"Errol can't fly any more," Mrs. Weasley said in a worried voice. "Ron, perhaps you should go out and call Pig."

"Mum, you know he doesn't come back like that," Ron protested, as Hermione performed the same Cleaning Spell on him. "For all I know, he could have flown straight into a tree and knocked himself out. He'll come back when he wants to."

"At least we can wait until Harry has breakfast," Ginny said firmly. "Sit down, Harry; you might as well eat before Mad-Eye decides to send you back home."

"Maybe I should be going," Harry said, a trifle uncomfortable. "I just went shopping yesterday and got a few things…" He opened the backpack and pulled out the first thing his hand closed around, the book he'd brought for Hermione. He thrust it at her and she took it automatically. He hadn't bothered to wrap it up, since it wasn't a present as such; it was more of a bribe to keep her happy. He had gone shopping for one specific thing, or rather, a few specific things and had decided that he should get something for his friends as well to placate them.

"Harry, thank you," Hermione said in an awed voice. "I never thought of it." She looked excited and started to show everyone around his gift, Ancient Mysteries and Lost Continents. Harry smiled, knowing it was going to occupy her, as she cross-referenced the Muggle book with the magical ones to see just how accurate it was.

"Ron," Harry said, giving him the wristwatch. He'd been at a loss as what to get his friend and had finally settled on something which would interest him. If nothing else, Harry was sure Ron would take it apart to see the inner workings.

"Err…thanks, mate, but why?" Ron asked. Harry wondered if there was a better way of telling them.

"You see, I sort of went on a few errands for my uncle yesterday and I brought a few things for myself. Muggle shopping, it's not like I can go to Diagon Alley. I got some coins changed to Muggle money by your dad sometime back and was waiting for a chance to use it. And, well, the reason I'm giving you stuff is so you won't be mad at me because…" he took a deep breath, "…I brought Malfoy some clothes."

"You what!" Ron exclaimed.

"I got him some clothes," Harry said, diving to the backpack and pulling out a parcel, thrusting them to Malfoy, who looked shocked.

"But …why," Ron spluttered while Mrs. Weasley rather wisely walked into the house, leaving them alone.

"I mean, you don't …can't expect him to dress like that…"

"But he's a git," Ron protested. "He used to make fun of me and …"

"So you're making life impossible for him…"

"He'd do the same if it was the other way around," Ron protested. "Maybe even worse."

"But you aren't him," Hermione said loudly. "But, Harry, should you?"

"But Hermione," Harry said, "…remember the house-elves."

"What about it?" Hermione asked. "What's it got to do with Malfoy?"

"You are all against those house-elves being dressed in rags, but when I try to give clothes to someone who's being dressed in rags, you don't like it."

"That makes me sound like a hypocrite," Hermione said with a small smile. "Ron, quit acting as if Harry decided to marry Malfoy; he just brought him some clothes." She gave Harry a look which said they were in for a long talk later.

"Potter." Malfoy finally spoke, apparently having got over the shock of someone giving him something. "You got clothes for me?"

"Well, they're Muggle, but you seem to know how to wear them," Harry said, feeling a little uncomfortable. The emotions on Malfoy's face were totally new, and he couldn't interpret them. "I mean…I'm not much of a fashion critic, but I do know a bit. I hope it's all right with you. You don't have to…" Harry stopped, realizing he was nervous about giving clothes to the best-dressed student from school, who probably wouldn't think much about his idea of fashion.

"Potter…err … Harry," Malfoy said, bringing his rumbling to a stop. "Thanks. I can't believe you even remembered me."

"I can't either," Ron muttered under his breath.

"That was sweet of you," Ginny said, while Ron pointedly put the watch on the table and looked away.

"I don't believe it," Ron said, reaching for a piece of toast without looking at Harry. "How can you buy him clothes?"

"He needed it," Harry pointed out.

"Well, good," said Ron, slapping a wad of butter on his toast, as if intent on killing it. "Now he can change his clothes and take a bath. He's starting to smell."

"Ron!" Hermione said warningly, sitting down at the table, pouring herself milk. Harry, however, was looking at Malfoy, whose face was starting to go red. Harry watched with fascination as the blush spread cross his face and down his neck, leaving two red spots on his cheeks.

He was watching the Ice Prince blush and he realized it made Malfoy look human, almost approachable. "I don't smell, do I?" he asked a little uncertainly.

"You smell fine to me," Harry said loudly. "I was sitting next to him yesterday and he didn't smell one bit," he informed the others.

If anything, Malfoy blushed even harder while Ginny giggled madly from behind him. "I almost forgot," Harry said, looking at Ginny. "I got you something." He pulled out the small box from his pocket. "Hope you like it."

Ginny opened the box and looked inside. Harry hoped she liked the necklace. It was a tear-drop shaped crystal pendant, mounted on a single strand of silver wire. She squealed, dropping the box, holding up the necklace for others to see. "Oh, Harry, it's lovely," she said, throwing her hands around his neck. "You never brought me anything like this when we were going out. We should break up more often."

There was a sound of an object dropping. When Harry looked over Ginny's shoulder, Malfoy was on the floor, picking up the clothes that had fallen out of the torn package. His fringe fell on his face, hiding his expression. However, Harry could see that his hands were shaking as he picked up the scattered clothes.

"Malfoy, are you al…"

"Eeeeek!" Hermione screamed. They all turned around to look at her. She was looking at them with a shocked expression on her face, while her breasts seemed to increase in size at an alarming rate, pushing through the top of her dress. "I'm going to kill those twins when I get my hands on them.

break 

"I know you feel sorry for him, but I hope this doesn't mean you trust him," Hermione said, glaring at Harry while trying to ignore Ron, who was gaping at her ample chest. All the reducing spells they had used hadn't been of any use. Though they looked smaller, they weren't shrinking fast enough for her liking.

"I just brought him some clothes," Harry protested. "I don't trust him, but he's here and doesn't have anything to wear and…"

"But that was because you started to feel sorry for him," Hermione pointed out. "Next thing you know, you'll be letting your guard down with him."

"You know, pulling out that stuff about house-elves was a low blow, mate," Ron told Harry, bringing his tirade to a surprising halt. He suddenly realized that since he had become Hermione's official boyfriend, Ron had occasionally risen to her defense rather than his. Inexplicably, he felt a rush of regret. Before, it had usually been him and Ron against the bossy girl, but now it was the other way around.

"It's true," Harry pointed out. "She was starting sound like my Aunt Marge, caring about animals, but not giving a shit about people." He knew it was an unfair comparison, but he couldn't help saying something that would hurt his friends, the same way they were hurting him by siding against him.

"Harry," said Hermione said, looking hurt. "That's not a nice thing to say."

"You make it look as if I just made Malfoy the head of the Order of Phoenix," Harry said angrily. "All I did was buy him some clothes. They did question him under Veritaserum yesterday, and they came up with nothing. You know that."

"But Snape can lie under Veritaserum," Hermione said. "As his favorite student, Malfoy probably can too."

"Forget it, Hermione," Harry said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "I've had enough of arguing with people. I want to know when the next official meeting is so I can attend it." He decided to change the topic before it became a full-blown shouting match.

"But Harry, you're not of age," Hermione said.

"He's supposed to save the world,'Mione," Ron pointed out with a wry grin. "It's not as if Vol…" You-Know-Who" is going to wait for him to be of age. Without Dumbledore to take care of him, he might as well know what's going on."

Harry felt grateful that his friend was acting like his, well, friend again. "Thanks, R…" An odd jingle sound filled the house, similar to the ringing of bells. "What…" Harry asked, looking up in surprise at the ceiling.

"The Apparition signal," Hermione said, pulling out her wand. "A whole lot of people just Apparated to the Apparition point."

"Are you expecting anyone?" Harry asked, pulling out his wand. This time, Hermione did not even tell him to put it back away.

"Not today," Ron said, looking equally worried. Harry noted that his wand had also appeared in his hand, ready.

"Why don't we go and check," he said softly. "It'd be pretty stupid if it turns out to be a bunch of reporters."

"True," said Hermione, but did not put her wand down as they trooped into the kitchen. In the kitchen, Ginny stood, looking very confident Her wand was pointed straight at Malfoy, who was doing a very good job of ignoring it. Mrs. Weasley joined them, looking a little bewildered.

"Are we expecting someone, Mum?" Ginny asked, without taking her eyes off Malfoy. Harry felt proud of her at that instant. She would make a good Auror, he was sure.

"No…not that I know of," Mrs. Weasley said a little breathlessly.

"Shall I go and see who it is?" Harry asked, moving towards the kitchen door.

"Potter, you idiot." Malfoy spoke for the first time before the others could make their token protest. "Send someone else. Don't you dare go on your own."

"He's right," Hermione said. "Harry wait here, I'll go and check."

"Isn't this a little stupid," Harry said with a smile. "I think you're all overreacting. It's ten thirty in the morning, for crying out loud. Who'd want to attack people at a time like that?"

"When they do show up, we'll ask them," Ginny said snappily. "Honestly, Harry, we've had house drills for this sort of thing, only with a lot more people involved. There's a room in the basement…"

"I'm not hiding in the basement…"

"Too late, they're here," Hermione said, pointing out the kitchen window, and they all looked out as one towards the masked figures who were walking up the path that led from the Apparition point to the back garden.

"I'll deal with this," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. She was out the kitchen door before any of them could react.

"What in…" Mrs. Weasley started, giving the people walking up the look she usually reserved for the twins, when they had been misbehaving. One of the figures, Harry couldn't tell whether male or female, lifted his/her wand, and a red beam of light hit her squarely in the chest. Mrs. Weasley shot up in the air and landed on her back; her inert body slid for a few feet and then came to a halt near the kitchen door.

Harry was the first to move. He'd known it would always come to a fight. He always replayed the events of the Ministry of Magic when Sirius had gone through the veil. He'd always berated himself for not reacting faster; sometimes wishing he'd just cast the Killing Curse at Bellatrix Lestrange when he'd had a chance. He pointed his wand at Malfoy, who was frozen in the chair, the conversation he'd had with his friends still fresh in his mind.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS," he said, and Malfoy froze in mid-motion, his mouth open to speak. Harry noted that even though he was aware of what was happening, his eyes were relaxed.

"Ginny, we need to get her inside," he told the stunned girl, who was still pointing her wand at Malfoy as if he was the main threat.

"Accio Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, pointing her wand at Mrs. Weasley's inert form. The body shuddered but did not move. "I'm not strong enough, Harry, you Summon her."

Harry opened the kitchen door to summon the body inside, not sure if she was dead or alive. Ron barreled past Harry, pushing him aside so hard, his head hit the wall with a solid bump. By the time he'd managed to shake his head to get over the dizziness, Ginny was half out the door, screaming instructions at Ron, who was surrounded by three of the masked people.

"Impedimenta!" Hermione said over Ginny's shoulder, and one of the men slowed down.

"Expelliarmus!" Ginny screamed; her spell was blocked. "Diffindo!"

"Stupefy!" Ron screamed, stopping the person approaching him.

Harry watched with surprise, as his three friends threw every hex they knew, most of which were blocked easily. Ron was hit with curse that had him sink to his knees, screaming as blood poured out of his ears.

"Ron!" screamed Hermione. In the next moment, she had pushed past Ginny, who had collided with Harry, driving them both back to the wall. In the background, Harry heard the mad crackling laughter and felt as if a bucket of water had been emptied on his head.

Bellatrix Lestrange was there. All of a sudden, the world seem to slow down as he pushed Ginny aside, knowing that he had pushed her too hard. She lay sprawled across the kitchen floor - but at that moment, he didn't care. He stepped out the kitchen door into the chaos in the backyard. He watched, a little surprised, as a garden gnome rushed past him squealing, wondering how he could notice such mundane details in the middle of an attack. Two of the attackers lay on the ground, and one of them was limping.

But his eyes were fixed on one masked figure in the back, with black hair and a mad laugh.

"Finally came out of hiding, did you, little boy?" the woman asked derisively, and Harry bristled.

He lifted his wand in anger, making everything else in the background blur. "Crucio." He watched the withering figure on the ground. He had meant to kill her, but even then he couldn't bring himself to say the Killing Curse. He watched her wither on the ground with a feeling of sick fascination, as all the other sounds dimmed to the point of none-existence His limbs seem to be heavy and all he could do was watch, as her mask rolled off her face. He was presented with her face contorted in pain, and something akin to madness.

"Expelliarmus." Harry's wand and glasses went flying, and he hit the ground on his back. He lay stunned for a moment, wondering who had gotten him. Finally, he rolled over and sat up slowly, feeling around for his wand, looking at the blurred world for more attackers.

He looked up, seeing Hermione standing over Ron, who had fallen completely, forming some kind of shield between them and their attackers. Her hair was floating free, and, due to her dress with her ridiculously enlarged breasts, he was reminded of an ancient female fighter, who triumphed over her enemies. But she was weakening, he could see. Her shield was not going to be able to put up with it much longer.

Then he saw the last individual who had been in the background all the time. Even with the mask and Harry's blurred vision, the glint of white blond hair was unmistakable. Bellatrix's screams were ear splitting and some of the attackers faltered, stopping to look at their fallen …comrade (?), but Lucius Malfoy had eyes for Hermione alone, who was standing tall.

"Look out!" Harry screamed, breaking into a run towards Hermione. He realized, even as he shouted, that the shield blocked out outside noises as well when Lucius brought up his wand. Whatever he was casting, Harry instinctively knew the shield would not be able to block it. As he watched, Hermione went down on one knee, the shield dropped. He could see green vines sprouting from her arms.

Lucius cast his spell, a blinding white light, straight at her. There was nothing Harry could do, but he couldn't watch his friends get injured either. He jumped right into the path of the spell, catching it in the center of his chest.

All of a sudden, it was as if the world had stopped. Harry was on his knees, a burning feeling spreading from his chest towards his neck. He couldn't breathe and his hands clawed at his throat as if to dig a hole through it . In the background, Ginny was screaming and Hermione was also yelling something. The Apparition wards were ringing in the house, announcing the arrival of the Order, when his whole world went black.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Revelations

Father,

Potter is spell damaged. I will inform you when he recovers. Until then, he would be useless for the ceremony.

Draco

Who would have imagined that, as one of the worst dressed students at school, Potter would have a sense of fashion? Draco stood in front of the bathroom mirror and studied his reflection thoughtfully. Potter had apparently brought him two of everything in what he called safe colors; black, white, gray and blue. He really didn't think he looked good in red and green. Probably would have antagonized the Weasleys more.

Of the two shirts, he had gone for the gray over the cobalt blue, knowing the brighter colors would make him look like a vampire with bags under his eyes. The slacks he had been given were black and dark brown respectively, a little dull, but sensible. They fitted him well, considering the fact it had been brought by a person who had never gone clothes shopping, for a person who had not been present for the fitting. The waistband was a little loose, but he could live with it. There was already a dull ache in his stomach, which had nothing to do with indigestion and nerves.

The male body never was meant to bear children, and the potion he had been fed by his father was growing a whole new organ inside of him. To make space for the new body growing inside of him, his already existing organs were in the process of shifting, realigning themselves in somewhat comfortable positions. He knew that he would start to show sooner than, say, a pregnant woman. He hoped he would be out of this miserable household by then.

He turned to his side to see if he was already showing, though it had been a little over a week. Probably not, but to distract anyone who saw him, he unbuttoned the top three buttons of the shirt, noting with amusement that Potter had brought him long sleeved clothing, including the two t-shirts currently lying on the top of his pillow. The pillow contained the first of the items required for the ceremony, a kitchen napkin soaked in Ronald Weasley's blood, left over from the attack, forgotten in everyone's hurry. Of the objects Draco had been told to obtain, now he had the blood of a pureblood friend.

He had to admit he looked good. The black trousers went well with the gray shirt; the open buttons giving an air of casualness to the formal clothes. Coupled with the lack of footwear, it made him look relaxed instead of underdressed. His hair, still a little wet from the bath, had been tied down with a black ribbon provided by a helpful Weaslette, leaving a single strand free. He was ready to face the music.

For luck, he put his hand inside his trouser pocket, pulling out the crystal pendant. It had been dropped by the Weaslette during the battle of the kitchen, as he mentally called it, and he had picked it up. He had no idea as why he kept it, but the presence of something Potter had chosen with care, even if it wasn't for him, made him feel warm. The Weaslette had not even noticed that it was missing. To give her some credit, she had been a little distracted with two of her brothers and boyfriend at St. Mungo's (though Ron Weasley and Potter were to be released that day) and her mother still recuperating from a spell attack which would have left most people half her age incapacitated.

As the only girl, she had taken to running the household singlehandedly, bossing her brothers who came to visit, while Mudblood Granger seemed to have reinvented the art of research. He had seen the way Potter had looked at her that day in the kitchen, when he'd walked in on her holding Draco at wand point. It had been pride, the sort that came with ownership, and he wished it had been her who was residing at St. Mungo's, and not Bill Weasley.

"Show time." He winked at his image, which winked back at him, and walked out the bathroom towards the staircase that would lead him to the sitting room. He paused for effect at the top of the stairway, knowing that the morning light playing from behind him would make his hair shine like a halo, giving him an ethereal look. He found himself wishing Potter could see him dressed up in the clothes he had brought for Draco, posing like a Muggle model and looking twice as lovely.

"Good morning," he said, once he was sure he'd gotten the attention of the gathering, and then strolled down slowly, his hand trailing on the rail, as he glided down soundlessly on bare feet.

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall acknowledged him as he reached the last step, and then looked away, as if wishing she hadn't.

"Professor," he said equally politely. "Weasley, Potter."

Weasel did not bother to reply. Instead, he looked annoyed and a little stunned, probably no more than normal. Potter looked blankly in his direction and then away. He had obviously walked in on the middle of a conversation. As he sat on the sofa next to Potter, he noticed that they were all relaxed, and they went back to the discussion.

"I've looked it over twice, and there's nothing," Mudblood said in frustration as she slammed the book shut and shoved it aside. "If I only knew what curse was used on him."

"I don't suppose the Death Eater in our midst would know?" Weasel said bitterly, glaring at Draco. The effort seemed to weaken him, since he slumped back into his chair, looking like a corpse that had been at the bottom of the Hogwarts Lake for a week. "After all, it was his father."

"And I keep on telling you, it wasn't my father. All Potter and the rest saw was blond hair. It wasn't even his magical signature, and I can tell that even without a wand. Anyway, all I have to go on is 'a bright white light'," Draco said firmly, in a blank voice. "It could have been a light spell."

"It's not like we can ask any of them…I can't believe they all got away," Tonks exclaimed in disgust. "The moment we Apparated, they picked up the injured and ran away, as if they knew we were coming. It could have been a light spell for all we know."

"Which had him choking and turning purple," Mudblood snapped, looking frustrated. "Are you sure there's nothing we can do?"

"We did contact all the Healers we know, Hermione," the werewolf said, in a kind voice. Draco noticed that he had bags under his eyes and looked as tired as he did the day he had come to Hogwarts. "Even the best of them can only do so much. All they told us was to wait and see."

"For how long," Mrs. Weasley said, sounding like a banshee who had its tail stepped on. "It's been four days and there's no improvement."

'Very subtle', Draco thought, watching Potter wince.

"There has been improvement," Tonks cut in firmly. "Otherwise, they wouldn't have released Harry, would they?"

"But I don't get it," Hermione said, opening her book again. "Look at this Hungarian curse that was originally invented to stop a dragon; see where the inner spell is to reflect…"

Potter's eyes were glazing over, as everyone else, apart from the Weasel, turned towards Mudblood as if she had just found a way to raise Atlantis. He stifled a yawn and settled back, feeling for the back of the sofa with his left hand.

Draco leaned forward until his mouth was at the same level as Potter's neck. "Potter," he said softly. "I'm wearing the clothes you brought me."

Potters' neck arched up almost imperceptibly and he watched a trail of goose bumps appear on his arm. "Malfoy," Potter said, in an equally low voice, turning around to face him, as if he did not want the conversation going on around him to be disrupted. "Do they fit?"

Draco froze for a moment, like a Snitch stunned in mid flight, as Potter's eyes fixed on him, then slid away as if he did not exist. The eyes looked greener than usual without the glasses to hide them, and Draco thought it was waste to cover such an asset, even if they were of no use. Due tothe unfortunate Death Eater attack, Harry Potter was spell blinded. Everyone told him it was temporary, but there was no straight forward cure. Whatever his father's lookalike had cast, it hit Potter on the chest instead of going through Mudblood's shield, deviating it from its intended victim. Draco had no idea what spell had been used. Even after years of tutelage under his father, Draco knew there were spells he could never master. The only thing he knew was that time would tell if Potter would ever recover his sight.

"Do they?" Potter persisted in a less certain voice.

"Uh, yes, perfectly," Draco said, just as the conversation around them died down.

"Molly, are you sure about this?" McGonagall asked sharply.

"The Burrow isn't safe anymore," Mr. Weasley said, speaking for the first time. Draco noted that Mr. Weasley made Remus Lupin look rosy cheeked and blooming. The man looked dead on his feet, probably because his large wife was leaning against him. "We have no choice."

"I can't go back…" Potter said softly.

"Oh, Harry," said Weaslette, who sounded offended. "We aren't letting you go back. We know your Muggle relatives won't look after you."

"Then there is only one thing to do," Professor McGonagall said, standing up and adjusting her robe. Much to Draco's horror, he realized that she seemed to have aged a hundred years. In fact, she looked old enough to be Dumbledore's mother. Her hair looked whiter; the bags under her eyes and her robe hung in a way that suggested sudden weight loss. Draco wondered if he should start an insomniacs' club. There seemed to be lot of people stumbling around, pretending to be an extinct version of a black-eyed sloth, who had no valid excuse for it. He hurriedly turned around and studied Tonks, but she looked relaxed and healthy. Either the werewolf looked tired for an entirely different reason than shagging his girlfriend, such as his monthly transformation, or the Metamorphmagus was good at hiding sleep deprivation signs.

"The question is what to do with Mr. Malfoy," a voice said from behind him, and Draco whirled around, cursing. Behind him stood Mad-Eye Moody looking as scary as ever and larger than life. He probably had been there the entire time and he hadn't noticed him. Fighting the urge to scream and jump to his feet, Draco slouched into the sofa, making himself as inconspicuous a target as possible;not that it was possible, being the only blond for at least a twenty meter radius.

"We could send him back," Mr. Weasley offered. "If Lucius Malfoy were to attack the Burrow, after all this time, it has to be because his son is here."

"Not because you have some sort of secret organization and meet in the kitchen every night?" Draco drawled, knowing the effect his words were going to have on the collection of people.

"How did you know that, boy?" A walking stick was thrust under his chin, his face tilted up.

"A little obvious, isn't it?" Draco asked through gritted teeth, knowing that if he showed any fear, they would sniff it out like a pack of lions. "You are a little loud when meeting, and it isn't as if you are cooperating with the Ministry of Magic this time. My father still has a few connections within."

"We should just return him," Ron said, sounding tired.

"We can't," Mad-Eye Moody replied, with a frustrated growl. "He's seen too much. We could obliviate him, but there are spells to get around it. We could always kill him."

"You can't be serious," Tonks said, standing up angrily. "He's just a boy, Moody. We can't kill him."

"I can't believe I'm even listening to this conversation," Professor McGonagall said in a firm voice. "There is only one thing to do. We are going to move the …The…Burrow."

"We are going there, then?" Potter's voice was hollow and full of pain. For a moment, Draco wondered what could have shook the Boy-Wonder that much. "Who's the Secret Keeper now?"

"I am," Professor McGonagall said in a tired voice. "Molly offered, but I took over when …when Dumbledore died. But I wonder why. I feel as if the whole world is on my shoulders."

"How are things at school, Professor?" Mudblood asked softly.

"Terrible," Professor. McGonagall snapped. "That Umbridge woman is everywhere and Sybil isn't helping by being drunk and walking around with bottles in her hand. She predicted death for Hagrid's cabbage garden last time, while that woman looked on, writing everything down in her notebook . Then she came back and told me-" here, she gritted her teeth and straightened her shoulders, "-that there was a new Ministry order saying we need not predict the lifespan of vegetables over that of our students'."

"There isn't anyone living at Hogwarts, is there?" Mudblood asked slowly, while the Weasel bit back a snicker.

"There are more than you think," McGonagall answered. "You'd be surprised at how many people think they can find the answer to all their problems at Hogwarts, and if that isn't bad enough, the Ministry keeps on coming up with more and regulations."

"Professor, there must be something in Hogwarts rules and regulations that deals with Ministry interference," Mudblood, ever the showoff, said. "I mean, there must have been outside pressure before they have to be dealt with."

"Yes, dear, but the rules are in the old archive, and there is so much to do. I'm all by myself, you know."

"I can help," Mudblood, ever the selfless, offered. Draco knew why she was put in Gryffindor, even if she had the brain of a Ravenclaw. It was her driving determination to succeed and use her knowledge for the good of others. Ravenclaws were sterile, researchers who were book bound while Mudblood Granger would always be the visionary, selfless and sacrificing. "I'm coming over to the library to do some research on Harry's condition and I can look at the old archives while I'm at it."

"Would you?" For a moment, the old woman's face lit up and she looked young again. "I would really appreciate it."

"I will as soon as we've finish moving to our new - house," Mudblood said.

"That reminds me." Prof. McGonagall snapped her fingers and two house-elves appeared. "Dobby and Winky will be assigned to the house for caretaking. The school has too many house-elves as it is, and with the increasing number of household members, it would be better for Molly to have some assistance."

Draco watched, as Mudblood's eyes focused on the two house-elves as if The Burrow had been invaded by a stampeding herd of Blast-Ended Skrewts. One of the elves was an old Malfoy elf; he could see the traces of magic on it which only someone with Malfoy blood could see, while the other looked like a drunken, pathetic mess.

"Dobby is sorry, Winky drank butterbeer again, Professor," the house-elf with the Malfoy signature and a ridiculous amount of clothes (including a polka dotted sock on his head) said with a bow.

"But…" Mudblood started to protest, when Draco remembered, that she had started that ridiculous house-elf welfare group. "The house…"

"…is large and dirty," Potter said forcefully. "We know we can't get Kreacher back. He's more likely to push me or you down the staircase, while muttering Mudblood fell. You know that." The anger in Potter's voice made everyone stop their private conversations and look at him. "That house is a …" he paused, searching for a word, when the vase at the center of the room exploded. Draco could feel the sizzle of magic around him and swallowed, but others acted as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "…Hermione, bond with Winky," Potter said suddenly.

"What!" Mudblood exclaimed, looking so scandalized, she might as well have been asked to have an affair with Hagrid.

"Bond with Winky. If you can convince her to be free without tricking her into taking clothes or by making her unhappy, then I'd say you've won," Potter said.

"I think that's a wonderful idea," the werewolf said. "Hermione, why don't you?"

"Ummm…" She was thinking, looking slightly vexed.

"Once the bond is in place, you'll realize it's different from just ordering them around," Draco said. "You can ignore it if you want to, but if the elf likes you back, they know how you feel even before you do."

"Your family must be used to that," Weasel snarled, then stopped short, as if he had run out of breath.

"I'll think on it," Mudblood said firmly.

"I have to get going now," Professor McGonagall said, standing up. She brought out a piece of paper and held it out to Draco. "Read it and burn it."

Draco looked at the handwriting which had marked his essays. "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place."

"I'll take that," Mrs. Weasley said swiftly, once he'd finished reading it. She strode determinedly to the lighted fireplace, and Draco watched as the fire sparked up and then died. "Shall we start packing?"

break 

"Potter, where are we going?" Draco asked as they walked up to their room, more to distract himself than anyone else. The Weasel had retired as soon as possible. It was obvious from the not very steady steps he had been taking that the tall redhead was at the end of his tether. As soon as her boyfriend had been settled in bed, Mudblood Granger and Lupin had Apparated to get Potter's belongings back from his relatives. The werewolf had wanted to go alone, but Mudblood had volunteered, saying that she understood Muggles more than any of them put together.

After saying his good byes to his Professor, Potter had gotten up, swayed, and sat down hard on the sofa, looking slightly unsteady. The little Weaslette had jumped to her feet to help him, but Draco had beaten her to him, as he was already sitting next to Potter. "I'll take him," he had said firmly. He took Potter's upper arm in a firmgrip, which had obviously surprised Potter. Most people did not think that his slender frame was strong enough to handle a broom, let alone play Quidditch.

"This place we are relocating to, with a Fidelius Charm," Draco tried again in the silence. "What is it, exactly?"

"To…my house," Potter answered, blinking rapidly. He had yet to get used to the idea of being blind. "Where are we going?"

"Back to my… your room," Draco replied, shifting his grip to Potter's upper arm. "You have a house!"

"More like a mausoleum," Potter said, with a grimace. "It's not something I'd like to spend my holidays in." There was a touch of sadness in Potter's voice that made Draco want to hug the smaller boy.

"Steps," he said automatically, as Tonks tripped over a chair behind them and fell over Weaslette, who struggled to stay up by hanging on to some wall fixture.

"Up?" Potter inquired, and Draco noticed that he sounded tired.

"Unless you prefer the basement," he said dryly, trying to let some of his cutting wit surface, before he actually started being nice to Potter. He had finally gotten a chance to be with Potter alone, and here he was, contemplating how tired and sad the boy looked.

"Why did you get marked?" Potter asked suddenly, and Draco stumbled on the third step. Potter turned around, his Seeker reflexes coming to light as his hand reached out and grabbed Draco firmly. It was his turn to be surprised by the strength of the smaller boy's grip.

"What sort of a question is that, Potter?" Draco snarled, trying to gather his wits. "Next you'll be asking how many people I've killed."

"I was there that day," Potter said softly. "On the tower, when you couldn't kill Dumbledore and Snape had to do it for you."

The world seemed to have been submerged underwater all of a sudden. Draco gripped the railing with his free hand and tried hard to control his breathing, blessing the powers above that Potter was blind and couldn't see the play of colors across his cheeks. One second, his face felt as if it was on fire, and the next, as if he was out in mid-winter.

"You were there on the tower." His voice was strangled, as if he had problems getting words out. He motioned that they should go on climbing up by urging Potter with a hand to his lower back.

"Dumbledore cast a spell on me so I couldn't move," Potter said evasively.

"Well, I should have killed him." Draco's voice was horse and forceful. "See where it got me." They were almost at the room and could stop this infernal conversation.

"You should have gone to him in the first place, and he would have protected you," Potter snapped angrily. "You just messed it up."

"How could that senile old man protect me when he couldn't even look after himself?" Draco snapped back. "He was always sprouting nonsense."

"He was dying, even then," Potter snapped angrily. "He believed everyone could be saved. As manipulative as he was, he always gave people choices." With that, Potter wrenched himself free from Draco's grasp and stumbled up the stairs looking as clumsy as ever.

"Speaking about killing yourself, did anyone even tell you how close you came?" Draco asked from a lower step, not bothering to run after Potter. He knew that the smaller boy was not going to disappear in a hurry.

"What do you mean?" Potter asked, pausing, his breath coming out in puffs, as if he had been running a mile and not up a few steps.

"That day during the battle of the kitchen, remember what you did?"

"Get hit by a spell?"

"Let's start at the beginning, shall we?" Draco suggested, with the patience of someone talking to a five year old. He watched in amusement as a flush spread up Potter's neck and over his ears. "You almost got your friends killed."

"I did not," Potter ground out. "If anything…"

"You did even worse than getting them killed, you got …"

"Malfoy, shut up."

"You should never shut up a person who is talking reason."

"Oh, please do explain, your Highness."

"Potter, if that was your attempt at sarcasm - I suggest you start taking lessons," Draco drawled, loving the way the Gryffindor blushed.

"That's your explanation," Potter observed dryly, breathing heavily.

"Potter, for Merlin's sake if you're going to be turned on by this perhaps we should go to the room."

"I'm a little tired," Potter explained. Draco could see the hand holding the railing shake a little. "You were saying?"

"When you jumped in front of a hex that was meant to take down your friend, you put yourself in a position where you couldn't help anyone else."

"I know," Potter said warily.

"You do!"

"Well, yes, I did do lot of thinking. If the Order hadn't come at that time, I would have been unconscious, and since I was the strongest, I would have been more useful awake," he said as if repeating something verbatim.

"Mad Eye told you that?"

"No, Remus." Harry gave a wry chuckle, which sounded hollow. "He said it a little more forcefully and also told me I should be more focused."

"You should be," Draco agreed. "If it is possible for someone with your mental capacity."

"Malfoy, that didn't even sting," Potter said, his voice wavering a little, but neither boy made a move to walk up. "You aunt was there."

"And you went after her without a thought for anything else," Draco said. "Personal revenge is so annoying, isn't it?"

"Oh, hell," Potter said, swaying precariously. "What do you care, Malfoy, whether I get out of this dead or alive?"

"Potter, you'd be no use to either side dead," Draco whispered softly, knowing that from his position, he wouldn't hear him.

Potter had never been graceful on his feet. He was powerful, but not just in a magical way. People moved out of his path when he walked, even before they knew who he was. It was not arrogance, more like an exclusion of everyone who didn't interest him, because he was too preoccupied. On his broom, Potter was a dream come true, a skilled and swift player who blended well with his surroundings. On solid ground, he was just clumsy.

Just then, the pug nosed monstrosity Mudblood called a cat streaked through the landing, past the two boys, stopping momentarily to rub against Potter's leg before hurrying on with its journey. Potter, however, was not a cat. He tripped over his feet and started to fall backwards.

"Harry," Draco gasped, bracing himself as the smaller boy fell hard against his chest. He wondered how someone so small could weigh so much. Draco staggered at the edge of the step, before he finally regained his balance. Potter gasped, obviously frightened; unlike Draco he couldn't see where he was, so the near fall was more traumatic for him.

"You…" gasped the brunette, lying perfectly still under Draco's arm that had curled protectively around Potter's chest. Draco could feel his heart beating madly underneath the thin t-shirt. "You called me Harry!"

"It was a momentary lapse," Draco reassured him. "I'll obliviate myself as soon as I get my wand back."

"You're funny," Potter suddenly said, with a gasp, which Draco interpreted correctly as a laugh. "You always come up with these quick retorts."

"Did they check you for brain damage?" Draco asked dryly. "Or did the twins give you some of their firewhisky?"

"You've had a bath," Potter said, coming up with more of his Gryffindorish prattle. "You smell like Ron."

"Potter!" Draco exclaimed, aware that the two of them were standing on the top of the staircase with his arm wrapped around Potter. Harry leaned against him, making no move to break away. The body heat, seeping in from the boy, was making him burn inside out. "Please don't tell me you make a habit of sniffing your friends. That's disgusting."

Potter smiled. "Hardly," he said and leaned comfortably against him, and Draco smelled potions, medicine and the overlying smell of air freshener from St. Mungo's, in the hope of hiding the underlying smell of death. "I think I'll just go to sleep."

"Oh, shit," Draco swore and turned around; he could feel the play of muscles under his palm through the thin fabric. Potter had real muscles across his abdomen, probably from all the digging he did. "Tonks, Mrs. Weasley," he called.

Tonks suddenly appeared at his side in her outlandish clothes. "Harry." Her concern was genuine. "What's the matter?"

"It's the medicine he was given," Mrs. Weasley said, appearing by their side with Mr. Weasley. "It's to keep him calm. The moment he becomes too excited, it calms him down."

"It's turning him into a babbling maniac," Draco snapped.

"I've always liked you hair, Malfoy," Potter prattled on. "Always wanted to touch it at school. It's long and looks soft." To his horror, Potter giggled and buried his face in the crook of Draco's neck. Draco wondered whether he should simply let himself fall backwards.

"Harry, bed!" Mrs. Weasley said, taking his hand. Draco wondered if he was also invited.

"You have nice neck," Potter mumbled. "Long, smooth, bitable."

"He's not going to remember any of this," a stricken looking Mr. Weasley told Draco as he left with his wife towards the bedroom. They were probably wondering what he had done to their precious boy. He watched the pair of them leading Potter to the room where Weasel was probably sleeping. He turned around and realized Tonks was watching him closely.

"What?" he snapped, startled.

"That relaxing potion relaxes your mind, you know," she said. "He won't remember what happened now, but what he said was not imaginary."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked hoarsely.

"He meant what he said just now, every word of it."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N-Laura went through this but mostly self betaed. Which like everything else about self service is twice the work and half the fun.

Chapter 7: "In the Dark"

_ i He was sitting on a high back chair looking down at a woman who was crouching at his feet. Her black hair covered her face as it fell down in strands, the black robe she wore was torn and her body shook uncontrollably._

"_Why did I even bother breaking you out of prison if you keep on inconveniencing my plans?" he hissed irritably, spinning his wand in one hand. In the other hand, he held a small green cylindrical object, pointed at one end and blunt at the other, half the size of his palm._

"_I'm sorry my lord, but…" the woman whispered from a throat hoarse from screaming. "I…I…" _

"_You really thought you could gain my favor this way?" he snarled, a sharp pang of satisfaction going through him as felt her fear._

"_I thought Lucius…"_

"_Had nothing to do with thisss…" he hissed. "We are not yet ready for the Ceremony and you had to go and disrupt everything."_

"_Perhaps, I should use this on you," he said, brining up the small container. The woman whimpered in fear and looked through her hair at his hand… and Harry saw the face of Bellatrix Lestrange. /i _

'Oh, please,' he thought, panicking. 'I'm in Voldemort's head again. I have to wake up.' He could feel the bed sheet under his hands and his feet, clad in socks, moving, trying to get free. He had to wake up before Voldemort realized he had an intruder and decided to pry into his mind. What if he was to find out about his blindness, or about where he was, at The Burrow or about Malfoy being with them or …

Harry struggled, trying to get free, his scar burning, his breath coming in gasps, and then he was awake. He could feel the bed sheets under him, the smell of the pillow, of Ron and something new, the smell of vanilla and spice and …and he was still in the dark. He could hear the birds outside and the voices downstairs but he couldn't see anything. He lifted his hand to his face, to pry open his eyes so he could see. How had he gotten to bed? All he could remember was going up the stairs talking to Malfoy, civilly and then nothing. Where was he, why couldn't he see?

Harry clawed at his face desperately, he had to open his eyes, he had to see where he was, was it still a dream. What if it was still a dream and he was still inside Voldemort's mind. He had to get out, now.

"Potter," the voice was insistent. "Cut it out, Potter, before you scratch your eyes out."

"What?" Harry said, clawing at his face, his nails scratching his face. "I can't see!"

"Of course you can't, you moron, you're blind," the voice said in exasperation and Harry finally recognized it.

"I'm blind," Harry said then went over what he had just said. "I'm not blind, just wake me up." One jagged nail broke the skin under his eye but he still couldn't seem to wake up. He needed to see his surroundings and he could feel the darkness pressing on him, stifling him from all directions. He needed to see…

"Gouging your eyes is not going to help you regain your sight, Potter," the voice said and suddenly, two strong hands closed over his own and brought them down.

"Malfoy," he gasped.

"Wait, I'll call somebody," Malfoy said, getting up.

"No!" Harry said. He couldn't let his friends see him like this, sweaty and confused with scratch marks on his face. "I…just forgot for a moment that I'm …blind."

"Now that's settled, I suggest you stop repeating yourself…" Malfoy said and Harry felt the air movement as his companion started to walk away.

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, slightly panicked that he was going to be left all along.

"Went down for lunch. Said you can come down when ever you feel like it," Malfoy said, casually, his voice sounding further.

"Why…aren't you there?" Harry asked, feeling more and more desperate. He did not want to be left in the room with his thought along.

"Didn't feel hungry," Malfoy said, casually sounding even further.

"Don't go," Harry blurted out finally. "I…I don't want to…" He stood up and reached out in the direction of the voice, desperate for human contact after all.

"You want, Potter?"

The voice was more curious than malicious, and feeling encouraged, Harry leaped forward, "don't want to be left alone." The moment the words were out of his mouth Harry regretted them, wincing, wondering how the blond was going to use it for his advantage. He reached for his face again, maybe his eyes were shut and if he could open them then…

Suddenly he was gripped fiercely and he could feel the presence of someone standing just next to him. "Potter, don't you…"

Harry struggled, feeling light headed and unreal. He was blind; blind and they had left him all alone in a room. Where was everyone, why was he blind, he couldn't see. "I can't see…" he mumbled.

"We've settled that already," Malfoy told him dryly.

"I'm blind," Harry repeated, stupidly. Suddenly his body was shaking as the truth sank in, he was not going to be able to go down the steps for lunch, he was not going to be able to see the terrible orange bed spreads that belongs to Ron, he was not going to see Ginny or be able to fly or be able to anything. He was stuck, he couldn't even find is clothes and how was he to going to …he was shaking, his eyes filling up with tears….

The hands that enveloped him were warm and surprisingly comfortable. "Potter, Potter," the voice was also soothing. "Don't you have a nervous break down now."

"I…I…" Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm…blind…"

"Here, sit down before you faint, you look like Myrtle," Malfoy guided him back to the bed and as he sank to the bed sat down beside him. Harry found his hands going around the other boy's waist finding comfort in the fact he was holding on to something solid.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he mumbled.

"Potter, if you do something disgusting like puke on me, I'm going to rub your nose in it," Malfoy said as Harry leaned against him. His cheek brushed the bare chest were the shirt buttons were open and he once again inhaling the familiar scent he had smelled on the pillow.

"Your nose if longer than mine," Harry told him, feeling comforted by the steady heartbeat under him. The body under him was slender, chest hard and he could feel the ribs under his palms. But it was also strong. The hands around him were sturdy and firm. One hand was drawing circles on his back and he closed his eyes and relaxed.

"Potter, I'm insulted," Malfoy drawled, a hint of a smile on his voice and Harry realized that his voice was nice, especially when it was not insulting or sarcastic.

"They told me I couldn't see, at St. Mungo's but then with everyone around… it didn't seem so real," Harry mumbled against the chest trying to explain what had happened. A part of his brain was screaming in horror, he was burying his face in Malfoy's, Draco Malfoy's chest. He might as well find comfort with Voldemort while he was at it. Another part of his was basking in the security he felt at being held in a warm pair of strong hands.

"You had a shock," Malfoy said, and Harry listened to his voice through the chest. For someone who was slender, Malfoy was strong and his body well toned. Nothing about him felt soft under his hands and Harry could feel well-defined muscles under his shirt.

"Thanks," Harry said, softly.

Malfoy didn't reply but his hand continued to trace circles on his back while the other tightened a little. There was a sigh and he felt a pointed chin resting on the top his head, and felt strangely safe. No one had held him so; neither Hermione, Ron, Sirius or even Dumbledore, people whom he consider to be family, had ever held him as if he was fragile. No one had ever picked him up and told him that he could relax a little until it was the time to go save the world. The two boys sat in silence, Harry smelling the familiar scent of vanilla and musk, the soft chest hairs tickling his cheek, feeling relaxed after weeks of tension.

He had no idea how long they sat like that until Harry realized he was in a rather compromising position with a person he considered his enemy. But somehow he didn't care. He was, in fact, tempted to put his tongue out and lick the chest his head was resting against. Did it taste of vanilla or did it taste different? What would it be like to take a small nip … the sound of footsteps on the staircase broke their embrace and they moved away feeling a little shy. When a few second later, Ron gamboled into the room with a description of something he had eaten, Harry was leaning against the headboard of the bed, looking refreshed.

break 

Moving house turned out to be a nightmare. They were all broken into small groups and moved in Ministry vehicles where necessary. However, to an outside observer, it was to look as if only the Weaselys were moving house – which meant that a few selected personnel had to find alternate means of transport to their destination. This involved Harry, Tonks, Malfoy and Remus taking the Knight Bus. After listening to Malfoy vomit all the way up to London, while complaining about the state of Magical Transportation they had all arrived at Grimmauld Place looking (according to Tonks) slightly green and bedraggled.

The house was no better. After almost two years of disuse it had turned into, according to Ron, a dust covered tarantula cave. The house-elves working non-stop had only managed to clean the kitchen and a few bedrooms. There was a dank smell of death prevailing inside, of something rotting under the floorboards and even Hermione gagged at the smell. Malfoy, still queasy from the bus ride, promptly threw up on his traveling robe and Remus' feet, before breaking down in a stream of curses, until Molly had boxed his ears. The fact that the twins gave a commentary about the whole incident ("projectile vomiting, is it puke yellow, bro?") which they claimed solely for the benefit of Harry who could not see only aggravated Malfoy's foul mood. Things had deteriorated afterwards, with Malfoy cursing fat redheaded females with litter of Weasels, until George had stuffed a rag into his mouth.

"I absolutely refuse to stay here," Malfoy protested for the third time in a row, at which Ron finally lost his temper. Harry was surprised he'd even managed to hold on to it for so long.

"The front door is always open, Ferret, you might as well leave," he snapped in a strangled voice which made Harry wonder who was hanging on to whom. He was finding out that being blind was tedious.

He did not have the practice of being 'visually impaired' as Hermione had called it - that mainly meant he could not read a person's expression and therefore, could not guess how they were feeling or whether they were addressing him or someone standing next to him. The most annoying of all was Mad-Eye Moody who called any male below the age of mid-twenty as either 'boy' or 'you there'. While he had read stories of blind heroes who with their trusted canine sidekicks had saved the world, Harry did not think he was cut out to be one.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, in a resigned tone. "I think there's a camp bed some where, we'll put it in your room unless…"

"Our room…" Ron exclaimed.

"I'm not going to share a room with him," Harry protested at the same time remembering the incident from midday. He could not help but wonder what had happened and something nagging in the back of his mind suggested he should stay away from Malfoy as much as possible.

"Seems like you have everything under control," Remus muttered under his breath as he skirted by Harry and he got a whiff of perfume as Tonks strolled past as well.

"You were leaving," Fred informed Malfoy coolly, not at all pleased that the blond had insulted his mother.

"I was," the haughty tone sounded subdued and Harry heard him falter.

"Look, it's either your room or ours," Hermione said reasonably, ignoring every one else. Harry realized that for all his bluster, Malfoy really could not leave since he didn't have anywhere else to go. "Malfoy will have to be watched over. We can't put him in the twins' bedroom since they'll be gone soon and we can hardly put him in the same room with Mad-Eye Moody."

"We can," Ron said, sounding gleeful. "He's the only one who has a room of his own."

"Ok, that's decided," Harry said, brusquely reaching for Ginny whom he was sure was standing close by. "Let's go to our room. Malfoy, you can share your room with…"

"On second thoughts, Potter…" The tone was bordering on insulting though no one was fooled. "…I'd be delighted to share a room with you. I've always wondered about how you …Gryfindorks sleep."

"I'm not sleeping with him the same room," Ron protested loudly over the sniggering of the twins – aimed at Malfoy – Harry assumed. "He'll strangle us in our sleep."

"I'll do no such thing," Malfoy said, sounding insulted. "Strangling is so time consuming and tedious… I'd much rather use an axe."

"Why not a chainsaw while you are at it," Harry muttered under his breath remembering one of his fat cousin's favorite movies he had been forced to endure. He could hear Hermione stifling a laugh in the background and was grateful that at least she had understood what he had meant. Living with an all wizard family meant that no one understood his Muggle references.

"Think of all the blood on the bed sheets," one of the twins muttered.

"I didn't think the Malfoys were messy," the other one added. "We've got to go now."

"You're leaving?" Ron said, sounding aghast.

"Have to, we've left the shop unattended long enough. Our new assistant just doesn't know how to handle kids at all so, we should be there before closing up to tally the merchandise."

"Will you be back for dinner?" Ginny inquired, sounding like her mother.

"Probably not," said one of the twins, apologetically. They were standing together and Harry could not even place them properly. "We'll try." And then there was a double pop as they Apparated leaving, the five of them standing in an uncomfortable group.

"We should have asked them to move the spare bed before they'd left," Hermione said, sounding annoyed.

"Why Granger, didn't know you cared," Malfoy said, insinuatingly.

Harry half expected Ron to burst out with something and was surprised to hear his friend laugh instead. "Hermione doesn't have any house-elves to fuss over right now so she's probably going to treat you as her new rescue mission," he offered.

The trio plus Draco walked up to their rooms slowly so Harry would not fall on the stairs, Ginny having left voluntarily to help her mother to cook and to try and placate her, aware that Molly was in a bad mood. Hermione, Harry had noticed, hadn't offered to help her and he could not but wonder if there was something wrong between the two girls. The bushy haired girl did not have any close female friends from school and he wasn't sure if her home life was any different. But she had always been close to Ginny until now, so he was sure that something was underfoot.

"Landing," Hermione informed Harry, helpfully as they reached the famous section of the staircase where the now silent picture of Sirius's mother was hanging. Harry nodded his thanks, though he had been holding on to the railing and could feel the difference.

"Who's that?" Malfoy asked, suddenly his interest taken up by the portrait of the mad female who was probably sprouting insults at them although now all they could see was her moving lips. Hermione had come up with a sphere of silence, which could be cast around the portrait enclosing it so that sound wouldn't get though. It had to be renewed daily which was a simpler task that trying to shut her up.

"Mrs. Black," Ron informed him. "Your great aunt I think…can see the family resemblance."

"If she is my aunt," Malfoy said, thoughtfully. "…this house, what is it… I thought Potter owned it?"

"I forgot," Harry said dryly, moving forward. "Malfoy, welcome to the most Ancient and Noble House of Black. I'll take you to see the family tapestry later on if you're interested. Your mother is on it but by now, your name might not be there any more."

break 

By night fall, Harry and his friends had another frustrating day, as they were not allowed to attend the Order meeting being held in the kitchen. The Order was supposed be in session the next day, with a lot of important things to attend to but their request to attend it was met with interference.

"No," Molly Weasely said in a firm tone.

"But Mum…" said Ron.

"We are full members of the Order so…" said Fred

"…we can come," said George.

"We are members too and moreover we live here so it concerns us…"Ginny pointed out.

Harry stood extremely still trying not to get over whelmed by the sound of all the people chattering over his head.

"Maybe Molly they really ought to come," Lupin pointed out. "They do live here and any decision we make will affect them. And Harry i is /i involved in all this." But Lupin was not Sirius and did not have any legal right to say so.

"No!"

"But Mum, they'll just tell me what happened anyway," Ron said.

"Upstairs I say…"

"No…I live here"

"Now, young lady…"

"No, no no …" Ginny said, stamping her foot and screaming. Harry was glad that Malfoy was locked in their room and did not have to see their arguments.

"But, I do need to speak to everyone," Harry protested, remembering his dream. He had all but forgotten about it during the move but now he remembered he needed to tell everyone about it. He knew it was stupid to withhold such information and from what he had managed to tell Hermione she agreed with him about it

"Don't you think it's my decision?" Molly said, angrily. "I'm the closest thing to mother and you should listen to me once in a while. I remember having a similar …conversation with Sirius before and …"

"You made him feel bloody awful about it," Harry said angrily, remembering the incident. "You told him he was mixing me up with my father."

"Well, he was," Molly said, firmly. "You're too young to be making such decision at your age. You have no idea…"

"I'm not too young for this…"

"But dear in your condition…" Molly started.

"You make it sound as if it's life threatening," Harry said glaring in the direction of Mrs. Weasley's voice. (Actually she made it sound as if he was pregnant) "It's temporary."

"As long as you stay under my roof as my son…"

"It's my roof," Harry ground out, annoyed by the tone Mrs. Weasely used on him as if he was an invalid. "And you're not my mother…"

"Well then…" Mrs. Weasley's tone was cold and overly polite and he could hear the silence in the background, which meant everyone was listening. "Since I'm no longer needed here I'll just cook. After all that's what I am isn't it… a cook in the house."

"I didn't mean that," Harry said, reaching forward blindly towards where he assumed the angry woman to be but she did not come towards him and by her silence informed her that she did not wish to touch him.

"You are not attending the meeting," Mrs. Weasely had snapped out at everyone in general, before storming off, leaving them all standing in an uncomfortable circle.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Over a cup of tea and books

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter (and associated characters, likenesses, concepts, etc.) belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc. AOL/Time Warner, Inc., among others. I make no claim, written or implied, upon Harry Potter. No money is being made and no infringement or disrespect to the creators / copyright holders is intended.

A/N Short chapter again but there are some important plot threads I had to include. There might be another couple of pairings on the way.

The house was quiet, apart from the odd creaks and groans common to all abandoned houses. The kitchen table held the leftovers of a dinner hastily eaten by a large number of people. Remus Lupin flicked his wand, letting the pots and pans collect in the sink, something Molly had been too tired to do that night. He walked out again; looking at the cob web covered chandeliered which glowed faintly and at the wall clock in the sitting room.

He signed, running a hand through his hair before sitting down on one of the chair which emitted an offending sound followed by a strong smell. He jumped to his feet hurriedly and waved his wand over it until the 'gift' the twins had left became visible. He chuckled to himself as he picked up the wafer thin object when the door bell rang, once.

He hurriedly kept the twins joke item on the mantle by the fire place before moving to open the door before any of the occupants in the house awoke.

"Snape," he said formally as he moved backwards, so the greasy haired man could walk in.

"Lupin," the other snapped out removing his cloak and draping it on a coat stand that decorated the hallway. "Where is everyone?"

"Asleep," Lupin said, gesturing towards the other man to walk towards the sitting room. "How much time do you have?"

"Enough," the other answered abruptly. "I prefer the kitchen if you don't mind. I have found out that it is harder to be observed by a person coming from above."

"Very well," Lupin said walking towards the kitchen. "Do you want some tea or food? We have some left over"

"I assure you Lupin, I did not come here in the dead of night to eat," Snape said a little testily before extracting a bottle from his person and keeping in on the table. "Your wolf bane potion."

"Thank you," Lupin said softly, sitting down in the middle chair at the table and thereby giving Snape a choice of sitting close to him or far away. Snape chose a chair one seat apart and sat down, adjusting his robes carefully. "Did you have many problems, brewing it?"

"No, Lucius leaves me alone," the other said. "He's busy brewing potions of his own, though I have been not told what"

"Lucius, brewing?" Lupin said, amused.

"He's a Slytherine," Snape smile thinly. "All Slytherin are gifted in potions, only he wouldn't be caught dead brewing his own, if he had any other option." He grimaced as he said that. "This brings me to the conclusion, that whatever he's brewing is very important. The Dark Lord does not trust me to do that."

"You'd have thought your last mission for Voldemort would have gained a safe position with him," Lupin said dryly.

"Let us not talk about that," Snape said, drawing his robe closer as if cold. "How is the boy?"

"Which one are we talking about?" Lupin asked, getting up and pouring some tea from a blackened pot which had been spelled to supply hot tea.

"I take it Weasely is in no great danger and that Potter will eventually recover," Snape observed dryly. "That leaves me with Draco."

"He's…" Lupin searched for a word. "…disturbing. Do you want to see him?"

"No, don't let him know I was here. It's for the best. Neither him nor any of the children should know I came here tonight," he said hurriedly. "Disturbed or disturbing," Snape tried to verify.

"He's getting alone far too well with people he's been out to get for the past six years," Lupin said, handing over a steaming cup of tea to Snape, who accepted it with a faint incline of his head. Lupin sat down on the chair he had vacated and frowned. "He gets on well with Ron. By rights, they should be trying to kill each other, but apart from a few verbal insults, especially when there are people about, those two manage to live. They've slept in the same bed room for two weeks and they haven't physically harmed each other."

"Draco is a Slytherine," Snape said with pride. "He knows how to survive, unlike some."

"Meaning…" Lupin asked his tea cup paused mid way.

"Potter for example," Snape said, pulling the long sleeve of his robe back before reaching for his cup. "He's Foolhardy, rushing in to danger and endangering others."

"He's still a child," Lupin protested.

"One who had better grow up," Snape said, pushing back his hair with his hand. He delicately ran his index finger slowly, tracing the rim of his cup with it. "Is he sharing a room with Weasely here as well?"

"With both Harry and Ron," Lupin said, his eyes following the circling finger. "We can't put either Harry or Draco alone."

"So you are watching…" the finger dipped into the tea "…him closely." The figure came out with a drop of tea glittering which was transferred delicately to his mouth.

"Yes…yes…" Lupin took a gulp of his tea; taking a deep breath he asked "Did you put…a tracking charm on him?"

"Draco," Snape asked, his head tilted back, as if savoring the drop of tea to the maximum. "Yes, I did. You can never trust anyone."

"Which is why you're testing the tea for poison?" Lupin asked dryly.

"My dear Lupin, if I thought this was poisoned, I'd have asked you to drink this," Snape told him with a scowl. "No funny incidents?"

"Apart from being attacked by a horde of Death Eaters early in the morning and having Harry struck blind," Lupin said sarcastically, as the figure once again did a circuit around the tea cup. "He and Draco seem to be getting alone surprisingly well, too. I heard them discussing fighting strategy as I was bringing them here – that is until he got sick on the bus."

"He's not the type to get motion sickness," Snape said. "Do they know Draco is …" pause so his eyes were resting on Lupin "…bisexual?"

"I did not see any need of telling them that," Lupin said steadily, though he spoiled the effect by gulping down more tea. "Harry has problems of his own and Ron…"

"Is officially going with the smartest Mudblood of the century," Snape observed. "Though what Miss. Granger sees in him is beyond me."

"I do not interfere with children's love lives," Lupin said, as Snape took the first swallow of his tea. He savored it slowly before putting the cup down.

"Speaking of love lives, how is yours?" Snape inquired.

"What…"

"Speaking of children, Lupin, you are dating a child you know," Snape told him in a scolding manner.

"She's a sweet…"

"…innocent girl who is not strong enough to handle you," Snape finished. "Does she sit with you during the transformation; has she seen you in werewolf form?"

"Why are you asking me these things," Lupin whispered looking at his cup of tea steadily. "Sirius, when he was alive…"

"Sirius is dead," Snape said, banging the tea cup down for emphasis. "Dead."

"Fuck you, Severus," Lupin snarled, loosing the little composure he'd had, snapping the handle off his cup as it shattered on the ground.

"Ah, but Remus," Snape said softly an odd smile reaching his lips. He lifted his hand, reaching almost as if to caress the werewolf's face…

Hermione Granger froze as she caught sight of the person who was looking at her intently. One of the twins, George, moved ahead, almost as if to shield her, while Fred moved forward to intercept the person who had disturbed them.

"Miss Granger," Percy Weasely said in a tight voice, as if he had just swallowed his quill. "What are you doing here?"

"Why, brother," George said smoothly. "Nice to see you too."

"Trust you to bring her here," Percy said, with a look of disdain, as if he had caught the smell of something putrid under his nose.

"Well, you're here too," said Fred, looking pointedly at the sign board which read Knockturn Alley.

"Ministry inspection," Percy said casually. "What do you have there?" he asked, looking at the books Hermione had piled on her hands. She flinched slightly as he reached for the top of the pile and pulled out a small tattered book, which looked as if it had been dipped in blood and then dragged backwards through mud slush. He held it between his index finger and thumb, reading the title gingerly, as if expecting it to be something vicious. "Cures for the Dark Magic Inflicted," he said, looking pleased in a gloating way. "So my sources are correct, your precious little friend is hurt."

"Who are you talking about," Hermione said as Fred snatched the book from his brother. As he tried to move Hermione back, she shrugged his hand off her shoulder, looking angry.

"I have contacts inside of St. Mungo," Percy said, tapping his nose on the side, looking pleased. "But that does not explain why a muggle born witch and two of my brothers ( here with a look, which said he might as well cut his nose off before admitting that) are found in suspicious circumstances in a run down part of the Magical Community."

"In case you haven't noticed," Fred said, waving his hand towards what could be seen of Diagon Alley, from the opening they were in, "everything seems to be run down."

It was true. Diagon Alley looked like a ghost street with people hurrying along in groups, looking over their shoulders so much, that they bumped into people in front of them frequently. The wanted posters had increased in number to cover a larger number of the population, and despite her reluctance, Hermione was grateful that at least the Twin's shop added a bit of color to the morbid streets. However Knockturn Alley was her last resort to finding some rare books needed for her research.

"Things are going to change soon," Percy said forcefully, putting his hand inside his robe.

"Yes, well…" George paused, offering a badly dressed hag a smile, as she tittered by him, "we are holding our breath."

"Like a certain school that is at present, without a proper head," Percy continued smoothly as he brandished his wand and said "Accio books." As Hermione gave a disgusted gasp, the books in her grasp went flying over to Percy. Fred pulled out his wand while George also looked as if he was about to fight, but Hermione intervened. She knew that though her books had been purchased from a suspicious little book shop at the back of a Dark Arts street, they were in no way compromising.

"Pure blood rite and rituals," Percy said, raising an eye brow as if surprised, reading the first title.

"Well, you know," Hermione tried to fabricate "I will be marrying Ron and since your family is a pure blood family I thought…"

"Already married into the family have you?" Percy said, in a voice which said that if he'd had his way, she wouldn't be seen anywhere near the house. "Speaking of Family, I hear you have shifted house about three or four days ago."

"What did you mean about Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, ignoring Percy's implied question.

"I heard the present Acting Headmistress had a bit of a run in with one Professor Trelawney who was found last night trying to massacre a patch of cabbages," Percy said with a faint smile on his face. "She's almost all right now, you know, quite hard when trying to do all that one handed, with a bottle of cooking sherry in the other." He lifted the next book and looked at its' title with a look of amusement. "Bonds or bondage: Magical contract"

"Yes, well, unless you are going to arrest us you know," Hermione said angrily, pulling out her wand and summoning the books to her without uttering a word. Her face was red with anger and her hair looked fizzier. "We will be going."

"I came to tell my brothers that their pranks are not going to be appreciated any more. There will be a new order at the Ministry of Magic. Sending them shield cloaks that make the wearers sing, is not funny. And in the midst of all this work, why in the world are you two spending time in a Muggle-theme bar?" ('It's a dance club', Fred muttered, only Hermione heard him.) He stopped in front of Hermione. "You'll make a Weasely yet," Percy said softly, as he walked towards her. He studied her face for a few seconds before walking off swishing – - Hermione did a double take to make sure she wasn't hallucinating - a donkey's tail. She looked at Fred, who was looking quiet satisfied, as his brother strode away.

"What is he doing here?" she asked. "All alone and telling us about Hogwarts."

"Our dear brother was trying to tell us something, if we are not mistaken," George said looking angry as well. "It was almost as if he wanted to know how Harry was but couldn't get around to asking."

"He should have at least asked about Ron and Bill," Hermione said angrily, as the books on her hands wobbled. "He's just a pompous ass."

"But ambitious enough to be dangerous," George said suddenly. "Tell Lupin about this meeting and tell him that there's more trouble at Hogwarts. I really do wish there was a way to reopen the school now."

"You do," Hermione said in surprise, as they walked towards the twins shop. "You didn't even hang around to – "

"Can you imagine any of our children going to any other school but Hogwarts?" George said pointedly. "Had you noticed that Dumbledore had his weaknesses when hiring teachers?"

"You mean all those Defense against Dark Arts Teachers who were out to get Harry," she said dryly, as Fred took some of the books off her.

"No just that they were old, single and there was no such thing as anyone to take over. What do you need these books for anyway?"

"The medical text is for Harry. Ron isn't back to form as well so I thought I'll go over it. The other two are to look up certain things Harry mentioned in his dream," she verified. "I was just…" she stopped an odd look passing over her face as she watched a large number of wizards in bright white robes descend upon them from the pavement.

"We are the new Inspection Squad," one of them intoned in a haughty voice which made Hermione want to poke his eyes out. "We are here to inform you about the floo powder quota…"

"What!" exploded Fred. "Floo powder quota!" said Hermione.

"…has been exceeded," the man continued. "This is your first warning. You know all your traveling has to be reported to us now that you are working for the Ministry. You have to report to us about all your movements in writing without further delay."

"What do you mean?' Hermione asked puzzled.

"That we did something stupid," George said softly. "That's what Percy was telling us."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we agreed to manufacture a few things for the Ministry Workers only we signed a contract of sort that we didn't look at closely enough."

"Oh, no you didn't?" Hermione said as she realized just how much trouble they were in. "That's why your mother didn't want to floo your father that day, wasn't it?" She turned to face them. "Does everyone have a floo power quota?"

"Well," Fred looked a little nervous. "Only those who are watched rather closely by the ministry. They know we have the Order meetings at the Burrow and it's their way of keeping tabs on us."

George nodded then signaled Hermione to proceed. "Let's go. Gred and I have to go clubbing today." 


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: If I didn't own the first chapter its' unlikely I own the rest.

Chapter 9: Sacrifice

Draco was draped on his bed in the grimy room which had been assigned to them. He listened to Weasel's rather lurid description of how he had come across Ginny measuring Hermione's breasts, to make sure that the twins charm hadn't done any permanent damage. "You ought to have seen it mate," he said, in his boorish manner, ignoring the fact Potter was blind and couldn't have see Mudblood's drooping breasts, though why anyone wanted to see them was beyond his understanding.

"Yeah," Potter said, with about as much enthusiasm as someone going for a dental appointment. "And they were happy to see you?"

"Well..." Weasel struggled, until the room door burst open. Mudblood, followed by Weaslette, walked into the room looking like rampaging trolls.

"Ronald Weasley, you and I need to talk," she said, striding in as if to hex him. Draco was surprised that she did not have her wand out and ready. However, she paused when she saw that she had an audience, and taking a deep breath, calmed visibly.

"Can we talk about something else?" Weasel said faintly, as if wishing himself anywhere else but there. "Anyone with any new topics?"

"I have one," Draco spoke up, surprised that he had actually spoken. "I want to know, -what was it like, the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Why do you want to know?" the Weasel snapped.

"It's an important discovery, for everyone, not just the Slytherins. But no one was interested in exploring it after they opened it. They just sealed it up and let it be."

"Well, what do you expect people to do, go get killed by rock falls and..." Weasel started his usual rant.

"Ron, he's right," Mudblood interrupted. "There could have been something important there which we never discovered. It wasn't like Harry looked around to see if there was anything important."

"Try being attacked by a giant snake and having a near death experience Plus, a dark lord in his boy hood form," Potter said dryly, as he lay on his bed in the middle, his eyes closed, his hair in it's usually disarray. Draco swallowed hard and tried to get his mind to focus; a difficult task when Potter was lying flat on his back, in a t-shirt that rode up to reveal his bare midriff, his legs spread open a little, his hands on his side. If any one else had posed for him like that on a bed, Draco would have put it down as an invitation and jumped on him in a second. In Potter's case, looking like sex on legs was probably an unfortunate accident of birth.

"There's supposed to be hidden treasure for the heir," Mudblood said knowingly. "And also the reason as to why Salazar Slytherin left the school."

"I thought that was because he was having it off with Rowena Ravenclaw and she decided to ditch him for Godric Gryffindor," Weaslette said, in her irritating manner. "There's supposed a room dedicated to her covered in gold."

"Actually, I think was the other way around," Potter said, still on his back with his eyes closed. Why didn't he move? Close those legs or something. He had tilted his head back so his hair, which was a little long, spread over the pillow and fanned out so his neck looked like temptation. "There was a little plaque next to the Inner chamber door which said 'Salazar Slytherin loves Godric Gryffindor'."

"Harry, you can't say things like that about the founders," Mudblood said in a shocked voice, but the Weaslette smiled and her brother started to laugh.

"Are you sure it didn't stand for Serverus Snape loves Godric Gryffindor?" Draco asked his lips twitching. If Potter was in the mood for making jokes, then he probably was open to a little sex later on. After all, they hadn't had any time by themselves after the last day at the Burrow. Draco tried in vain to forget that day in the midst of company. After all, it would not look good if he was to get an erection in sight of the Weasleys and Mudblood; who'd have thought it was possible in the first place?

His mind kept wandering back to that moment, with Potter's hair, soft but springy, brushing against him, the way he had smelled and mostly about how his breath tickled the hair on his chest as he spoke. The way his body had fitted against him, when they had sat on the bed. Despite what most people thought, Draco did not believe in sleeping around, not because it was against his moral belief but because, as a Slytherin and a Malfoy, he knew that everything had its value. Anything given too freely always lost its value.

Why sleep with someone when a hand job or a good blow job could get the same thing done? If you didn't catch the snitch and wanted to stay on as a seeker for one more year, all you had to do was corner the Captain in the showers and make him feel like God A back rub and a blow job was enough, and a promise of something more, if his name was on the team when the list came up.

It was not as if he was a blushing virgin; perish the thought, but all in all, he was happy enough if he could get certain things done without resorting to actual sex. He didn't really enjoy the feeling of someone who wanted to boast that he or she had actually had sex with a Malfoy, groping all over him, to get the full benefits of sex. For him, it was a solution to a problem and nothing more; a messy solution at that, which required him to take a shower afterwards - but Potter presented a different issue. He wasn't sure why he wanted Potter apart from the fact he just did.

"What?" he asked, realizing that everyone was staring at him; which meant they had been talking to him and he had been in his own world.

"I just said that Voldemort...oh, get over it Ron...probably didn't get most of the hidden secrets in the chamber of secrets since he seemed to have been more obsessed with leaving bits of himself behind," Mudblood declared grandly and waited to see if Draco would agree.

"Wouldn't these secrets be sealed for anyone other than a very powerful wizard?" Draco queried half heartedly. He was not in the mood for these arguments. He didn't want to continue, although he had to maintain his friendly façade.

"You mean a pure blood, don't you?" the Weasel snarled, almost as if Draco had insulted him. Draco didn't know why he even bothered to put up with it sometimes.

"No, I meant a strong wizard," he snarled back. "I know the Dark Lord is a half-blood so forget it. A pure blood doesn't necessarily mean a strong wizard and you know that."

"True," Mudblood agreed. "So you mean Voldemort ..." that woman enjoyed rubbing their noses in it, didn't she? "...is a strong wizard?" She pretended to think for a bit. "Personally, who's the most powerful wizard around?" she asked in general.

"Vol...you-know-who," said Ron. "Dumbledore," said the Weaslette.  
"Harry Potter," said Draco.

"What!" said Mudblood, Weasel, and Weaslette in synchronization.

"It's true," Draco said softly. "Dumbledore is dead and the Dark lord is a power hungry maniac who tortures his followers for fun. Potter is strong enough to apparate through wards and blow up a room when he looses his temper."

"Does that mean he'll be able to apparate into Hogwarts too?' Weasel asked.

"Ron, how many times have I told you, in Hogwarts the History ..."

"...you can't apparate inside the school," all three Gryffindors finished her sentence.

"They are old wards, so they're probably a lot stronger than what you have at the Burrow. It really doesn't help when you have a whole lot of people telling you that you can't do it," Draco observed lazily. "Nothing is more detrimental than the negative attitude of friends."

He waited for the inevitable explosion, but none came when Potter, from his look-at-me-but-don't-touch pose spoke. "Malfoy, if you think a half blood is stronger than a pure blood, do you think that Muggleborns aren't too bad either?"

Well, he hated Mudblood Granger on principle; she was bossy, prissy, and fussy. She was also Potter's best friend, intent on keeping him away from those who might actually be helpful.

"I think that muggleborn children should be taken away from their parents and raised by ..."

"I've heard that argument before," Potter said dryly, turning on his side and looking at Malfoy through sightless, but none the less, disturbing green eyes. "Would your family take in a muggleborn witch as their own from childhood and treat them as their own, if given the circumstances."

"No, but there could be an institute..."

"You mean a wizarding orphanage..." Potter interrupted him and Malfoy could see that Potter was getting angry. "I was brought up by my mother's sister, and she treated me like vermin. You seriously think the wizarding world is going to be any better? You think anyone can love their child more than their own mother and father?"

"Of course, Malfoy's parents aren't what you would call model parents now," the Weaslette said in a malicious voice, which made Draco freeze in his bed. He could feel the room closing all around him as blood rushed to his face.

"Ginny," Potter said slowly. "That was not a nice thing to say."

"But it's true," the Weasel said in a whinny voice.

For some reason, it irked Draco that Potter had risen to his defense before he had even realized what had happened. He struggled to his feet angrily. "I don't need to defend my family to..."

The room door swung open and Mrs. Weasley came bustling in. She never walked and she did not seem to be able to do anything slowly, but her nervous disposition did not make them feel any better. Her eyes rested on Draco for a moment, then she signed. "I'm sorry dear." For a change, her voice was almost kind. "There's a visitor for you... you need to go meet him downstairs."

Draco realized that something was wrong, the moment he walked down the staircase and saw the familiar black robed figure of his potions mater standing stiffly at the bottom. His hands were clasped behind him, his face averted. Draco paused as the gang of Gryffindors he had been with trooped down past him as if the visitor was there for them. He noted that the Weasel was dragging Potter by his upper arm, with little regard for his blindness, so that he tripped frequently before Mudblood took over the job with very little improvement. He wondered what would happen if there were physically challenged Gryffindors. After all, theirs was the House of Bravery and Action. Someone who was incapacitated would have no room in it.

"Professor," he said, as he walked down in measured steps, past his raving aunt who could be heard weakly as the silence bubble wore off. He finally reached the end of what felt like the mile and half long downward spiral.

"Draco," the man's voice was kind and compassionate.

"You were with them all this time," he said dully, as the Werewolf stood looking as if someone had hit him on the head with a silver bat. He was looking very resolutely at anything but Snape, as if the man was a boggart.

"I serve which ever side that'll help me save myself," Snape said truthfully, ignoring the Gryffindors who looked as if Snape had said something truly terrible. Didn't they smell it in the air? The fact that something was wrong and screamed to be fixed.

"Why did you want to see me?"

"I have a message for you from your mother," he said softly. "She said 'now you are free'"

For a moment the world tilted, then straightened, as the werewolf leaped to grab his upper arm. His mouth felt dry and his body felt leaden. It wasn't happening. All the pain, all the sacrifice, and all of it for nothing. It couldn't be for nothing. She was supposed to be safe; they were to run off together after he had brought Potter to his father...

When he spoke, his voice was calm, almost emotionless, "Can you tell me what happened."

When Narcisaa was a small girl she had been proud of her blond hair. It made her look like a fairy while her sister had looked pale. Despite her good looks, there had been something wrong with Bellatrix; the need to hurt house elves, the need to squeeze Narcissa's hand a little too hard. All those small things which should have been noticed, but over looked, by her mad mother and dotting father.

When she had married Lucius, she had been over the moon She was marrying a pure blood family with a good name, an even better Ministry connection. All she had ever wanted to do was this. To leave her drab, dark house, and her sister she was secretly scared of, and live her life as she had always wanted. But how stupid she had been she thought, as she reached her destination.

Her destination was a small dome shaped house in a corner of the Malfoy Estate, well maintained, but not very frequently visited. She kept her hand on the stone slab which served as a door and it swung open smoothly on oiled springs. She lit her torch, the only magic she could do without a wand and the only magic she had left after it had been bled out of her by her husband, then started to descend into the dark, following a stone staircase. The staircase was shallow, each step longer than it was tall, and the faint stirring of air made her shiver.

But she was not afraid. She had come here often; mostly during the time when Draco was at school. This was where she found her refuge from her husband and his associates. This was where she came to reflect upon her life. Lucius did not mind her wandering inside the Malfoy Estate, knowing there was no way out. He regarded her visits here as some form of eccentricity that needed to be indulged in. Little did he know this was where she found the courage to go on.

She reached the last step and mounted her torch on a metal ring fixed to the wall for that very purpose. The room she had walked into came to life in a burst of light and shadow, as small stone coffins, laid neatly in rows became visible. This was the Malfoy tomb for the children. Generations of children had come to rest here.

Despite what the outsiders thought, Draco had not been her only child. She'd had four more, or had it been five. She wasn't sure if the last had been twins or not. What she did know was that black magic had its effects. Malfoys had been practicing Dark Arts for the better part of their lives; magic so corrosive, it settled in their bones and flowed in their blood. She sometimes thought that was what warped their unborn children. Warped until they were nothing more that twisted little monstrosities, beyond recognition They fought for every breath as they were born, dying before they were a week old. Something Lucius blamed her Black origin. It could have been the contamination building up inside her since Draco had been normal. All the abnormal children had been born after her husband had started practicing those midnight rites on her. It could be all the torture she had had to endure; all those spells and potions.

Whatever the reason Draco, had been her one and only normal child. The rest had been too mutated to live, though she wondered if her second born son who had died in their nursery had been that weak; she hadn't questioned it then. She couldn't question it now. She had been selfish, living in silence, as magic warped her children and as her husband molded her only living child, to something she no longer recognized.

If she had been honest, she could have forsaken all the Malfoy gold and run while Lucius had been in Azkaban; but she hadn't. She had let Draco get marked, even if it had been a preliminary mark, when she could have hidden him somewhere safe; she had let him go on a mission to kill an old man when she could have warned the old man and brought a halt to the entire proceedings. She had let her husband torture her only living child while she had sat in the next room listening to the screams and drinking tea because she had been brought up that way. She was a pure blood woman to the hilt, someone who supported her husband through imperio, or a dark lord, because that was expected of her.

But as she looked at the row of coffins, one of them a suspected squib who had been killed in his sleep, she knew what she had to do. She was finally going to do something for her son, who had done all he could to keep her safe. After all, Draco had sacrificed his happiness and his free will to make his mother safe. Now she was giving him a way out. It might be too late but it was all she had.

Snape walked into his room after the Death Eater meeting scowling at the world in general and stopped. He did not usually bother to lock his door; it was a useless gesture since any Malfoy could walk in without invitation. His room was dark, the curtains drawn but candlelight filled the room. On the sofa, the very same sofa on which Draco had bled, Narcissa Malfoy lay draped, dressed in a small white dress with thin straps, smiling at him.

For a moment he thought it was a very crude seduction attempt from her; she knew about his preferences and it did not stray to blonds but as he moved closer, he noticed that she was deadly pale.

"Severus, darling," she intoned softly. "You came. For a moment there, I thought you were going to be late and I'd have to leave a note for you."

"What are you doing here?" he asked angrily, as he moved forward.

"They say you are a double agent," she giggled softly. "Is it true?"

"Not that I know of," Snape said brusquely.

"I want you to go to my son and tell him something," she said sitting up, looking very serious. "Tell him I'm free. It's time he became free as well."

Suddenly the words sank into him and Snape looked up at his collection of potions. He was running to his collection of antidotes, pulling the drawer open, and looking at an empty collection of vials. "What did you take, you stupid woman!" he screamed in frustration.

"Severus," the voice was already weak. "Sit beside me."

"Narcissa..."

"I've been alone all my life, I don't want to be alone now."

He moved to sit by her, gently cradling her head on his lap. "Why did you do this?" he asked, but he knew. Magic was a useful weapon for inflicting pain without leaving scars. He knew she suffered and he had been unable to help her. They had been close at school, even though she had been a couple of years older than him and he had watched Lucius snuff out the light in her eyes without even trying.

"You were always a good friend," she said softly and smiled. "Remember to tell Draco..." she inhaled sharply. "...he's free."

"Let me help you..."

"Let me die in peace," she said softly, her lips turning blue. "Let me do one thing of my own free will."

So he did. He held her as she stopped breathing and her body grew cold. He held her until Lucius walked in, took one look at his dead wife and laughed.

"Will there be a funeral?" Draco asked, stiffly standing upright while the werewolf hovered by his side.

"I don't think you'll be attending," Snape said, while the rest of the people in the house were ushered into the kitchen by a bossy Mrs. Weasley. He watched with a detached eye as Potter argued about something with her, his hands flying in all directions, as he tried to emphasis his point.

"She's dead," he said and felt the werewolf embrace him. His eyes felt dry, but he turned around and buried his face in his chest, the same way Potter had done to him, smelling him, feeling comforted.

"Draco, I'm sorry..."

"She's free," he said stiffly, pulling free. "I think I'll go up to my room now." He turned around and walked up the stairs past the portrait which was louder, but he did not go to his room. Instead he went to the bathroom and threw up.

Then he wondered what the heck he was going to do with his life, when the one thing he had to live for had been taken from him. 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Confusion

A/N- thank you Emma Lynna who was the only one who reviewed my new chapters. What's up people. Should I stop?

Discalimer: If you think I own this...ha ha...please ...ok, I own the plot but nothing else.

"He's been gone for an awfully long time," Hermione said, as they breathlessly threw themselves onto Harry's bed, which had been moved to the middle of the room, so that Malfoy could have the corner bed.

"I think I strained a muscle trying to lift that blasted bed," Ron said. "Who knew that those things were fixed to the floor?"

"There are some extra sheets in the cupboard in the hallway" Hermione said. "I'll go and bring some in for you to use." Her voice was too bright. Harry figured she was trying to do something to keep herself occupied.

"My girlfriend, the house elf," Ron mumbled under his breath. Harry heard the room door open and the swish of fabric that announced Hermione's departure. The door opened again and Ron looked up "Back already?"

"I think one of you should go and see what's taking him so long in the bathroom." Hermione said, sounding worried. "You remember what Snape said about keeping an eye on him. He did receive some shocking news, you know"

"Look, if he's trying to drown himself in the bathtub all we can do is hope for the best," Ron offered. "If I don't see it, I might not be tempted to help him along."

"You are not helping," Herminie said.

"It's probably the way with Malfoy," Harry spoke up. "He probably takes ages to pretty up."

"In what, a towel," Hermione said, with a giggle. "We walked in on him sulking, and the next thing you know, he's storming off to the bathroom saying something about a wash."

"What was I to do?" Ron said laughing. "He smelled up the place."

"He's only a little taller than Harry, so his clothes should do," Hermione said briskly. Harry could hear her opening his trunk and going through his clothes. "I suppose he'll have to wear your clothes until we can get the laundry done in this place."

"Yes, you may go through my stuff," Harry said, with a smile, knowing they took each others things for granted. "Give him that large gray sweater and those horrible jeans with the flower design on it."

"I'm not going to give it to him," Hermione said, shutting the trunk with a thump. "Here, Harry, since they're your clothes, why don't you give it to him? I don't want to walk into a naked Malfoy any more that Ron does."

"You'd think I was hit by that spell especially for this," Harry grumbled, sitting up with hands full of clothes, feeling around for his shoes that he'd kicked off, as he'd thrown himself on the bed. Giving up, he decided to go bare foot; after all the bathroom was just down the hall. He fumbled for his wand on the bed side table and found it; the familiar piece of wood he now took with him, where ever he went.

Ever since the attack, they carried their wands with them every where they went. Even to the bathroom. For Harry, who had assumed his wand had been lost during the fight, only to have it handed back to him by Hermione during her visit, letting go of it seemed like too much of a risk. It seemed a little pointless at times to pretend that there might be an attack while singing in the shower, especially in Grimmaulds' place, which was as safe as a house could get. Though they would not admit out aloud, they all felt safer having their wands with them in case of an emergency. After listening to Mad Eye-Moody exalt the virtues of being prepared for anything- 'shower fully clothed- that way you can apparate somewhere and then throw a drying spell on yourself' Harry decided that holding his wand in one hand while cleaning his teeth was the least of his worries.

"I could walk you up to the door," Ron offered half heartedly. Harry smiled.

"No, why don't you help Hermione make the bed," and made his escape giving his friends some time alone on their own. Even in a house a large as that, it was clear that Mrs. Weasley kept a very close eye on the couple, not leaving them alone for more than five minutes. The first day Harry had arrived, he had gone out leaving the two alone, only to have her chase him back into the room.

He knew the way to the bathroom very well. It was a straight walk down the hallway with no mysterious objects on the way. He had been forbidden to wander around the house in case he hurt himself. The house seemed to be intelligent enough to know that he was unable to defend himself; from time to time certain things would appear in his path, magically. Doors that had been open would close noiselessly. The day before, Harry had been stuck in the kitchen trying to find to door out until an amused Lupin had rescued him. Grateful as he was for being able to offer comic relief to his friends, he got the feeling he was constantly underfoot.

The only safe stretch seemed to be the hallway from his room to the bathroom for which he was grateful. Having someone lead him by hand to the bathroom seemed to be the lowest anyone could get.

'Maybe I should take a walking stick,' he thought, and dismissed it out off hand; that would imply the blindness was permanent and he did not want to even think of the possibility. As he approached his destination, he was aware just how quiet it was. No splashing of water or any other sound could be heard from within.

"Malfoy," he said, tentatively knocking on the door. "Are you in there? I brought you some clothes." He fidgeted from one foot to the other, waiting. "Malfoy, are you alright?" He suddenly had a vision of explaining to Snape 'I didn't mean to, he just drowned in the bathtub'.

Finally, running out of patience, Harry tried the door, not at all surprised to find it locked. Taking a deep breath he got out his wand, hesitating, not wanting to walk in on a naked Malfoy. "Good thing I'm blind," he mumbled, and felt for the lock, aligned the wand towards it and thought 'alahamora'. His control over magic had improved over the holidays. Not just with the simple spells. He'd had a lot of practice with Legilimens - at least emptying his mind- while sitting in his room with nothing else to do. Most of his dreams had been the normal nightmare kind, with only a hint of Voldemort.

The door opened instantly and he stepped in to a warm, damp atmosphere of a bathroom which had been recently used. Harry draped the clothes he was carrying over his wand hand, a move that would have caused nearly all the Aurors, had they been present, to have a fit and reached out with his free hand. "Malfoy," he said again. "Dr…Draco, you here?" He took a couple of steps in and wondered if perhaps he should call for Ron or Hermione to investigate since he couldn't see anything and did not want to go bumping around. Then he felt the slight wind movement which meant someone was in front of him. With reflexes trained from Quidditch, Harry reached out swiftly and his palm slapped against a naked chest, slightly damp, but warm and smooth.

"Malfoy," he said, swallowing to dislodge a lump that had suddenly gotten stuck in his throat. His inquiry was met by silence. Despite his mind screaming otherwise, Harry's fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. They traced a path over the rib cage, feeling the slight movement as the other boy breathed in shallow gasps, barely audible, feeling the bones clearly over the tightly stretched skin. "You've lost weight," he said softly though he wasn't sure whether that was normal or not. For all he knew, Malfoy could have looked like an advertisement for "SAVE THE WORLD' under his bulky robes through out his school career, and no one would have been the wiser. His fingers trailed up hesitantly, hoping that his hand would be brushed away and hoping again that it wouldn't be. His right hand tightened around his wand, but straightened slightly, so the clothes draped across it slid down a little. 

His breath was coming unnaturally fast and his palm felt sweaty. There was a pool of excitement building up in the middle of him, battling with an equally large pool of horror, making him feel slightly nauseated. He pushed his fingers up, running just the tips over the chest, over a single nipple - which was rewarded by a sight gasp and a hitch in the breathing, over a clearly defined collar bone, a neck that seemed to have a couple of strands of wet hair wound around it. Harry was breathing hard as if he had been running s and the silence wasn't helping him much. His hand came to a standstill resting lightly on a pointed chin, trembling softly as if he had done something wrong.

Then a firm hand gripped his wrist, guiding his hand up across sharp cheekbones, cheeks so sunken that he could imagine the teeth underneath, brush up over long curly eye lashes The eye lid closed, so soft and fragile, that Harry was sure his finger tips brushing over it was going to leave bruise, over a high forehead, then down again, before he could feel the hair line. Harry's breath hitched; the excitement in his middle melted into some thing warmer and heavier, flowing downwards to his groin, as his fingers finally ghosted over soft lips, gently parted with warm breath caressing his digits the same way he had caressed the other.

"Potter," the soft word broke the spell that had Harry glued to the floor.

"Malfoy," he said loudly, moving back so his wand pointed down and the clothes that he had all but forgotten fell to the floor. "I wasn't sure if it was you," he said lamely.

"I'm sure you are in the habit of groping people in the bathroom to confirm their identity," the sarcastic voice broke the finally threads of enchantment that bound him. Blushing furiously, Harry bent down to pick up the fallen clothes.

"I'm sorry, I just…" Harry trailed off, unable to explain his actions. "I brought you some clothes to wear," he offered.

"So you said earlier," the sarcastic voice said. "I assumed you were blind when you originally brought those clothes, Potter. I wouldn't be seen dead in those. This towel is just fine, as far as I'm concerned."

"I don't have that many clothes," Harry said, still feeling unsettled from the earlier incident. What exactly had he done and what sort of reaction had his body offered? He'd half expected to be disgusted and horrified, not wishing for more physical contact. He hurriedly dismissed the thought, holding out the clothes towards where he thought Malfoy was. "Here, you'd better take these. They're the best I can do on short notice."

The clothes were snatched out of his hand and the rustling that flowed informed him that the other boy was getting dressed. A wet towed smacked across his face. In his condition Harry didn't even comment on it, although his t-shirt was soaked immediately He stood up carefully, taking the towel off his face and dropping it near the wall. "I …what happened just now Malfoy…?"

"Ever the clueless Gryffindor, aren't you?" he was taunted. In the background, he heard the sound of a zipper being drawn up. "You must be a poof, Potter." Harry felt as if someone had up ended a bucket of cold water over his head at the comment.

"What?" he croaked, from a strangely dry throat.

"Who else would wear boy-muggle clothes with flower patterns on it?" The other continued as if unaware of Harry's discomfort.

"They're not mine," Harry said, weak with relief, though he didn't quite know why. "My aunt bought them for my cousin, but he didn't wear them. So they became mine."

"No one can be this large Potter," the tone was one of disbelief. "These pants keep falling down to my ankles the moment I let go."

"I'll see about getting you a belt," Harry said, shuffling his feet and back pedaling towards the door.

"Give me your wand, Potter," the request came quiet casually.

"What? No, why?" Harry spluttered.

"No need to get your pretty little head overworked," the tone was one of honey coated venom. "I just want to resize these clothes. I don't think it's a charm you know, since your trade mark seems to be clothes that don't fit. Or does it make you feel more at home with the Weasels?"

"Tell me what the charm is and I'll cast it," Harry said, refusing to rise to the bait. "My wand might not work for you anyway."

"If you haven't cast it before, I'm not going to let you cast it at me," the voice was sharp. "I don't want to shrink any important parts."

Harry snickered at the image that came to his mind. "Let's just go to the room and let Hermione cast it instead. If nothing, else she already knows it and is just waiting for us to ask."

"Come now, Potter," the voice dropped an octave and became seductively low. "If Weas…Ron is there he might let me walk around in these just to spite me." Harry swung around as the voice shifted. He became aware that Malfoy was moving. "And I can't walk to the bed room holding up my …what do you call these? It's so undignified." Harry turned a full circle, trying to place the voice, as Malfoy seemed to be walking in circles around him.

"Cut it out," he said angrily.

"Cut what out," the voice was close, so close that the breath fanned the hairs on the nape of his neck. His head arched back involuntarily, as the rest of his body hair stood up. "I've been robbed of everything from my inheritance, to my pride and my mother. Let me just wear something that fits. Is it too much to ask … Harry?"

Perhaps it was the familiar use of his given name, the feeling at the back of his neck, or maybe it was his was feeling sorry for Malfoy, that Harry lifted his right hand and held out his wand.

"This is not going to hurt you at all," the voice was soft, almost soothing. Harry didn't think it was meant for him, until the bathroom door banged hard against the wall with a loud crash. The events that followed seemed to happen in a rush. Since he couldn't see, all Harry had was sounds to go by. Malfoy uttered an incantation, far too softly for anyone else to hear, when there was the sound of someone running past him. It was closely followed by the sound of two people colliding; a rush of air as something brushed past his ear The Hex shattered a section of the bathroom wall, showering them with plaster. Harry blinked, had he or had he not seen a ball of light? Although his ears were ringing, Harry could hear Hermione shouting "Ron, get the wand, get the wand!" Sounds of concerned footsteps were rushing up the staircase.

"Harry, are you alright?" Ron asked concerned.

"I can't believe he did that," Harry said weakly, wondering why Ron wasn't trying to kill Malfoy for trying to murder him. "Said he wanted the wand to cast a charm to resize his clothes."

"What did he cast?" Ron asked, as Harry tried to brush some plaster off his hair with a shaky hand. He couldn't believe that he had been stupid enough to hand over his wand to someone whom he considered an enemy.

"Let me see," said Hermione smoothly, from somewhere near the floor.

"He tried to cast something at me once, remember in fourth year when fake Mad-Eye Moody turned him into a ferret," Harry was babbling, ashamed of his action. He couldn't believe he had behaved like an imbecile, like Dumbledore, always believing in people even when you should know better. "I was stupid to …"

"Err… Harry…" Ron tried.

"I shouldn't have trusted…"

"He wasn't trying to cast anything at you," Ron finished, sounding uncomfortable. "I don't mean to defend him or anything but he was casting at himself and Hermione sort of jumped on him and his aim went off. I think he was aiming for…" gulp "…you know…" gulp "… his ... you know his…uum."

"He was trying to hex his bits away," Harry said in confusion.

"No Potter, I was not trying to hex my "bits" as you so eloquently put it, away it was a simple…"

"…curse" Hermione finished the sentence in a stilted voice. "It's something I read up in one of the books about Dark Arts. It's something…I don't know what, but it doesn't look too healthy."

"What would you care Granger, it's not like you are going to miss me," snarled Malfoy.

"Harry how could you?" Hermione chastised. "How could you hand over your wand to him, when Prof. Snape specifically told us to keep an eye on him?"

"So that's what he meant," Harry realized. "I thought he said you were stupid, not suicidal."

"It's not…" Malfoy replied. "The only stupidity here is someone handing over his wand to another person," Hermione said.

"I might not be the brightest of the lot, but I really don't think a simple curse can make a hole in the wall the size of a bludger," Ron said helpfully.

"It's the stupid wand," Malfoy spat out in disgust. "It's nothing like mine."

"I should certainly hope not," Hermione said tartly. "It's Harry's and anything cast from it will be strong since it's being used by a powerful wizard. There's some sort of residual power build up in wands which are attuned to the user. I'm surprise you were able to cast anything with it at all."

"What's going on here?" the voice of Mrs. Weasley interrupted further discussion. "Why is there a hole in the wall?" Harry noted that, although he was covered in plaster, she had not asked if he was all right. Though he had been fed up of all the earlier fussing, he wished she would at least speak to him.

"Malfoy just…" Ron started

"I was bringing him some clothes. I slipped and my wand fell out," Harry interrupted loudly, the lie sounding lame to his ears.

"No it didn't," Ron said. "What!" Malfoy exclaimed.

"That's the way it happened," Harry said through gritted teeth, wondering why he was covering up for his worst enemy.

"Is that what happened Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a voice which said she didn't believe him.

"I suppose it could have happened that way," Hermione said weakly, in a voice which would not have convinced anyone.

"Why are we…" Ron started, and then shut up. "If you say so mate," he said in an odd voice and Harry was sure Mrs. Weasley didn't believe him one bit.

"Someone repair that hole in the wall," Mrs. Weasley said briskly. "Dinner's ready, so Ron, Hermione, clean up and come down. Arthur will be here very soon and he wants to have a quick dinner so he can go back…night shift I think."

"Lets' go then," Ron said brightly after Mrs. Weasley had left. "I'm starved."

"Honestly Ron, you're always starved," Hermione said. Harry felt the dirt on his hair vanish as a 'scrugify' was cast on him. "Repairo" she said. Harry heard the plaster close up behind him.

"She's still mad at me," Harry said in a small voice. "She didn't include either me or Malfoy down for dinner."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said in a bright voice. which sounded false. He wondered if he was dying of plaster poisoning. "She didn't mean that. She probably thought you'd much rather eat in the room since you can't see."

"And Malfoy is blind as well, is he?" Harry snapped angrily. "She just lumped me with him because I told her I wanted to attend a meeting."

"It's not that, mate," Ron said awkwardly. "She's just stressed with all of us separated and with Bill sick. She'll come around soon, just give her time." Harry noted that unlike his girlfriend, Ron didn't even try to come up with half baked excuses. "You can come down with us anyway, Malfoy also," and they all knew how much effort that cost Ron to include his worst enemy in the same sentence as 'come with us'.

"I've seen you eat at school and the atrocious manners you have," Malfoy huffed. "The Golden boy always has his elbows on the table and Weasel's always talking with his mouth full. And Granger, didn't your parents ever tell you its' rude to read while eating? I've had enough of watching you eat from a distance, I really don't think I can stomach the thought of watching any of you eat, up close and personal" With that, he pushed Harry aside and strode out the bathroom, leaving the three standing in discomfited silence.

"Why did you cover up for him mate?" Ron asked.

"I was the one who gave him the wand," Harry said. "I might as well take full responsibility for him. He did aim it at himself. Why did you come after me?"

"We just thought you were taking an awful long time to give him a change of clothes and come back." The bushy haired girl said. "What took you so long, its' not like you had to dress him."

"I…just," Harry stammered, feeling a blush run up his face, grateful that Malfoy had left them alone.

"You can still come down with us, we'll just lock him in the room and…" Ron offered eager to go down.

"No, you go ahead," Harry said, feeling angry. He had just been told that he need not bother coming down for dinner in his own house. "I'm not hungry anyway," he added, just as his stomach rumbled.

"I'll send a tray up for you," Hermione said, trying to sound cheerful and failing. "She can't possibly let you starve."

"Thanks," Harry said moving towards the door. "I'd better go and see what his Majesty is doing."

"And Harry, too bad you can't see mate," Ron offered helpfully. "Those clothes look awful on Ferret face."

"Potter, what were you thinking, handing over you wand to me?" Malfoy drawled, the moment he walked in to the room. From where the voice was coming, Harry was sure that the other boy was lounging on the new bed. Harry paused, his hand out stretched wondering where exactly his bed was. "There's one of your scruffy shoes in front of you, don't trip over it" he was told helpfully.

"Thanks," said Harry, stepping on it. "I didn't know you were going to do anything drastic. It's not like you have anywhere else to go if you hurt anyone."

"I could be a spy, you know," Malfoy offered. "I could have come here under the pretence of running away, killing the Golden Boy and return to my father a hero."

"I don't think so," Harry said quietly. "If you couldn't kill a helpless old man, I really don't think you'll be able to kill a blind boy."

"Well, he died in the end, didn't he?" the voice was horse and forceful. "And the school is still closed."

"Hogwarts isn't closed for good," Harry snapped angrily. "It'll be open by the time the holidays are over."

"Even you can't be that naïve," Malfoy snapped back. "The reason they sent the school letters early is so that the students can find some alternative school. After all, that old fool is dead, and we all know he was the one who kept the school afloat."

"Just you wait and see," Harry snapped angrily. "Hogwarts will be there long after everything is gone." He was no longer sure why he was angry, at the incident in the bathroom or for degrading the memory of Dumbledore. "He believed everyone could be saved, he knew what you were doing, I told him," He said in frustration. They were talking in circles.

"So that was why you had an unhealthy obsession with me that year," Malfoy said softly. "I though you might have had a crush on me the way you followed me around."

"What exactly does that mean" Harry said taking another step forward and bumping against the bed frame. "What did you do just now?"

"Me, nothing," the voice drawled and Harry could imagine the confidant smirk on the annoying face. "It wasn't me who felt up a half naked boy. Does your shower room at school…?"

"I did not feel you up," Harry snarled, cutting off Malfoy before he could finish his sentence.

"Don't be shy," the voice was oddly persuasive and altogether insulting, like one used by an adult to a five year old.

"Shut up Malfoy," Harry said moving toward the bed, not sure what he intended to do.

"Harry," another voice called from the doorway. "Here, I brought you some sandwiches."

"Thanks Ginny," Harry said feeling his heart beat go back to normal. "Just keep it …somewhere I can reach." He felt a firm hand rest on his shoulder, guiding him towards his bed and then felt his ears pop and looked up confused.

"I cast a sphere of silence," Ginny explained. "I bought this up so I could talk to you." The Sphere of Silence, which Hermione had made every one of them practice, so they could cast it whenever needed on Mrs. Black's portrait. It created a space in which they could have a conversation without anyone over hearing. It was more practical then the Half Blood Prince's silence spell since it could not be used in a large room without someone getting suspicious.

"What is it?" He asked, reaching in her direction, and felt his hand been taken. "You'll have to keep an eye on Malfoy. I can't see, so I won't know if he'd accidentally swallowed his tongue, choking on it."

"No such luck," Ginny observed dryly. "He's pretending not to be interested, but he's watching us. He looks terrible, must be the shock of his mother killing herself."

"It's probably the clothes," Harry said, fighting the urge to look over his shoulder, knowing he wouldn't be able see anything.

"No, he already did look like the walking dead," Ginny told him.

"I didn't… can't see that," Harry said looking around, despite the fact it was useless. "How bad is it…?"

"I didn't come to talk about him," Ginny said impatiently. "I want to talk to you…"

"Good," Harry said, feeling a little annoyed that he had gotten side tracked so easily. "I wanted to ask you something too. "What's wrong with you and Hermione?"

"There's nothing wrong with us," Ginny snapped, sounding a little like Mrs. Weasley. "It's not like we were joined at the hip or something."

"But you're not getting on like you used to," Harry pointed out. "Something big is going on, not just what we talked about in Ron's bedroom. Why don't you just tell me?"

"Let's not go there," Ginny said listlessly. "I have to go down before they send someone up. It's not what I wanted to talk about."

He was going to get an answer from Hermione the moment she came up. "What is it?" he asked, trying to sound grown up and responsible. Ginny sounded scared and needed someone to comfort her.

"It's mom," Ginny said.

"Is she still mad at me?" Harry guessed.

"It's not that either," Ginny said irritated. "When I went to help her she had an owl from someone, she won't tell me from whom. She just wrote an answer in the same parchment and sent it off. She said something about Dad, but it can't be him because he came home not long after."

"So who was she writing to?" Harry asked, wondering where it was leading to. "You don't think she's giving away Order secrets…"

"I think it was about Bill," Ginny said in a small voice. "You heard what Lupin said. It's going to be full moon soon and Bill gets a little restless then. I really don't know, they won't tell me, but I think he gets hard to control then. That's where Fleur and Lupin are going to be this full moon and I think Tonks will go too. I'm just so worried… they won't tell me anything."

"I know how you feel," Harry said, putting a hand around her shoulder, pulling her close until they were squashed together. It felt right, the way she fit against his shoulder, the easy familiarity, the way she smelled, the way her hair brushed against his neck and he knew exactly how she kissed. Harry suddenly pushed her against the bed, ignoring the muffled gasp of pain as her head hit the corner of the headboard, pushed her down, hard and kissed her.

He could remember the feel of his finger tips over her smooth skin, how they'd gone over her chest, it had felt smooth…

Ginny's mouth was warm and tasted of food, Mrs. Wesley's warm kitchen …

…the way the eye lid had fluttered slightly as he touched her

…the way her teeth were slightly crooked at the back, obvious to the tongue but not to the eye and as he felt her pert little breasts crush under his chest…

…his shoulders had been bonier; he had been able to feel the bones clearly…

…he groped for breasts but the excitement he was supposed to feel didn't materialize…

….he wondered if the slashing hex had left any scars on her chest…

… then remembered that it wasn't her who had been hurt, but Malfoy.

The last thought snapped him out of the confusion, like a swimmer emerging from an underwater dive and as he surfaced for breath he was confronted by a very angry Ginny. "Harry," she said in a carefully controlled voice. "Get off and let me go. I'm not going to make a scene with Malfoy watching us…" Otherwise I would punch your teeth out, the unspoken comment continued "…but you are such a bastard. Just let me go. I came here to talk, not get molested by you."

"But…" Harry protested weakly, feeling guilty and angry at the same time. "I'm sorry... but you liked it, didn't you…?" his voice sounded weak and pleading. He felt his ears pop as the sphere collapsed. As she left the room, he was grateful he couldn't see the expression on her face.

"Change your t-shirt Harry," her voice sounded cold and distant from the doorway. "You're dripping wet." 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Secrets revealed.

Disclaimer: If I owned this, would I be writing slash on the net.

A/n-Emma Lynna- I thought Harry kissed Ginny because he was confused about Draco. After all, you can't have feelings for a guy when you think you're straight, so he was probably trying to work out some issues. But she really did want to talk to him about something important. I can't tell you what coz that'll spoil the story but the hints are right there.

Draco had been numb since the news of his mother's death. A numbness that had made him feel as if he was floating on air, until the enormity of it had hit him, quite literately. He had sat in the bath tub, thinking over his options, weighing his choices.

He would cry for his mother later; when the war was over. For now he had to survive; otherwise his mothers' sacrifice would have been in vain. It didn't ease the anger he felt for her. The thought that she had taken the easy way out leaving him in a mess, in the midst of a herd of rampaging Gryffindor with very little sense. Not to mention there was the other complication to deal with; his pregnancy. Telling everyone of the extent of the blood bond would have them either killing him, handing him back to his father, or moving him away to some safe house on the other side of the world. All three options did nothing to ease his mind. The last thought of going into hiding did not ensure his safety. He knew. All he had to do was get rid of the baby before he … it became too noticeable.

When Potter had walked in on him he had acted impulsively, perhaps not the wisest thing to do, but the annoying Mudblood had been too clever for her own good. What had hurt him the most was the thought he might have pushed Potter too far, too fast. He'd thought he'd lost more than his mother that night watching Potter suck face with little Weasel, but her cold words as she had left had been an encouragement to him.

Watching Potter fumble inside his trunk half heartedly, while a look of desolation hung over him, made Draco spring in to action. He was all too easy to read, emotion wise, and Draco suddenly felt sorry for him. After all, the little Weasel had been a bit of a bitch.

"What are you looking for Potter?" he drawled casually, breaking the silence and making Potter jump. Apparently he had forgotten he was not alone or had not expected Draco to speak.

"I…" his voice was hoarse. "I'm looking for something to wear. I do wish the house elves would buck up and do the laundry instead of chasing doxies around the room."

"First, why don't you take off what you're wearing," he said, standing up and walking towards Potter, who was kneeling by his trunk looking lost. He stood over the boy, letting his leg brush against Potter's back, feeling him stiffen at the slight contact. He bent forward so his hands rested on his shoulders and waited, until he was sure the idiot was not about to bolt. Before, such a move would have cost him a hexing, but now he was sure. Potter, if nothing else, did not mind physical contact with another male. How far he was willing to go was another matter.

His mother had just died and a part of him wondered what the heck he was doing. His rational part knew that he had to survive in a den of lions. To do that, you had to attach yourself to a very powerful ally. Potter had always been his first choice.

"Here," he said, pulling the t-shirt out of his waist belt and lifting it, 'call me a shirt lifter' he thought wryly. Potter shifted until he was standing up, his back turned to Draco, but lifted his arms so the t-shirt could be taken off.

"Malfoy," he said softly. "What are you doing?"

"I…" his first thought was a flippant reply in line with his previous thought, but he stopped, knowing that was not what Potter wanted to know. "Let's just find out, shall we," he said instead.

Potter relaxed as Draco lifted the soggy material up, letting his palms caress the body as he pushed up; the skin was warm and soft. Sun burnt, darker than his own, he watched as his hands contrasted with the bronze skin, marveling at the difference. Potter's back was muscled, he noticed, and as he pulled the t-shirt off the dark hair got tousled even more.

Draco had to bite his tongue to stop himself from exclaiming as his fingers slowly trailed down the back bone, feeling each knob, willing himself not to lick any one of them. Instead he drew back and tossed the t-shirt to the growing pile of laundry in the room. "You have a great body you know," he said softly.

"Malfoy, if you think this is going to distract me from what you did earlier…"

"What, sucking Weaslette face was for my benefit, too?" Draco snarled angrily. He was more on the edge than he'd imagined since the news about his mother.

"She…we…I…," Potter stammered. "She's my…"

"…girlfriend," Draco said, angrily pushing Potter away, the feeling of disappointment overwhelming him. When Potter didn't deny it, it made him see stars. He savagely dug into the trunk and pulled out a shirt, the size of an overcoat and pushed it in to Potter's hand, with a thrust that made him stagger. "Cover yourself up before you catch a cold." _And before I start to drool._

"Malfoy," Potter said, as he turned around completely, the adorable idiot, as he pulled on the shirt and started to button it up haphazardly. One side of the shirt rode up and slipped off his shoulder, about to fall off. Draco bit his palm to stop himself moaning aloud, or sinking his teeth in the collar bone so temptingly displayed. Potter, blind was still a worthy adversary. "I need time to sort this out…with you. You just lost your mother so..."

What ever he was about to say was swamped over, when the bedroom door was pushed open with a loud bang, that suggested either Weasel or Mudblood and proved his guess to be correct when they both trooped in, little Weasel in tow. The bushy haired interfering witch was holding Potter's wand in one hand and a blood stained small book in the other.

"Malfoy," Mudblood informed him forcefully. "We need to talk."

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They were all back to the seating arrangement they had abandoned just a few hours earlier. Weasel and Mudblood were sitting on the bed at the furthest corner, Potter and little Weasel on the middle bed, though Potter was not cuddling to her like the other two, Draco alone on his bed, closest to the door, facing them as if on trial.

"Hermione, why don't you start," Potter said his voice low and authoritative. Draco paused, surprised; this was a side of Potter he hadn't seen before.

"It's the curse he performed on himself," she said in the same voice she answered questions in class. "It's…I found it in the Dark arts Magic book I brought from Knockturn Alley, to look up your blindness. Anyway according to the book…" she paused; he wasn't sure whether it was for effect or because she had run out of breath. "Harry, its' an abortion curse."

"I miscast it," Draco said hurriedly. "I was in a hurry and…"

"You're lying," Potter said softly, not looking at him, but with his ear titled towards him. "I can tell, Malfoy. Being blind has its' advantages too, apparently." Draco didn't like this calm Potter whom everyone respected. He liked the bratty hot headed one he could get a rise out of.

"There's one way of finding out," Mudblood said standing up, her wand up in a dueling stance which made him want to cringe.

"Hermione?" Potter inquired his head turning slightly.

"It's just a pregnancy test spell, Harry," she said.

"But isn't there the small issue of him being a …you know…guy," Potter said, a little mystified.

"Err…Harry mate, here in the wizarding world there are potions and stuff to help to conceive even if you are a guy," Weasel said in a small voice.

Potter stopped, looking slight puzzled, as if not sure someone was pulling his leg or not. "You're joking, right?" he said in a small voice, unsure.

"No, he isn't," Weaselette said. "It's not very common but not unheard of. Less common now since we've started to mingle with Muggles, but before when they believed only the pure bloods should breed, and they did favor a lot of sons, there wasn't enough witches to go around. Of course, it's very rare and considered unnecessary now."

Draco was so distracted by the explanation, that when Mudblood's spell hit him in the middle he doubled over, covering his abdomen even though he knew it was too late. Through his fingers, he could see his middle glowing green and knew his secret was out. He just hoped they wouldn't know about the blood rites of the Malfoys and believed at least some of his lies.

"Oh, shit, Malfoy," Mudblood said in a voice mixed with despair and horror. "I think you owe us an explanation."

"Starting with, how your mother was in the Manor all this time when you told us you didn't know where she was," Potter said sarcastically.

"But you must have known I was lying since Professor Snape has been feeding you information," he said angrily, since had been made a fool.

"They wouldn't tell us now, would they," the Weasel said bitterly. "Whatever they discussed remained with them."

"Fine then, my mother isn't…wasn't missing," Draco spat out, his throat clamping shut as he realized he would never see her again. "My father held her captive, so I would follow his orders. But when he tortured me, fed me a fertility potion and raped me, I knew I had to get out. Severus would have kept me safe and I thought he'd eventually help me get mother out of that hell hole. I didn't know he was going to bring me here and I didn't even know I was pregnant for sure."

"But why you," Mudblood asked. "I mean, why get you …"

"My father wants a new heir. Thinks I'm too weak," there was very little bitterness in his voice.

"So you mean, you father knocked you up and got working on your mother" Ron said caustically.

"It doesn't work that way," Draco said slowly ignoring the morons blundering manner. "My mother isn't …" he winced at his second slip of the tongue "…wasn't capable of having children any more and my father is paranoid to the point of no return. He would rather have his son carry his next heir than trust some pure blood woman. He knew as long as my mother was with him I wouldn't disobey."

"But why did she kill herself?" asked the little Weasel.

"Because, she knew I would come back for her," Draco told them. "I thought I could have the child and use it as a bargaining chip for her. We were going to escape together and go somewhere safe…" he choked as he realized it was not going to happen. He was not even going to her funeral.

"But now that she's dead, you decided to get rid of it," Mudblood said thoughtfully. "When did your father…give you the potion?"

"The day Severus brought me to the Burrow," he said softly. "I protested at first, wouldn't agree to go with his plan willingly so he used the Cruciatus on me until I passed out and then…" he shrugged philosophically. "I don't remember much of it."

"But by Merlin! Malfoy, your own father!" the shocked whisper from Weasel, full of pity, made him bristle.

"What, you thought the Weasely twins had the patent rights on incest?" he snarled. To his annoyance, the Weasel simply burst into laughter.

"Oh, that's a good one," the red headed moron laughed until Mudblood elbowed him in the middle rather forcefully.

"How…far alone are you?" Potter asked softly.

"About a month since I came here," Draco said. "So about a month. Now, if one of you could kindly perform that curse on me so I can get rid of this monstrosity…"

"Perhaps," Mudblood said tapping her lip with the tip of her wand. "Male pregnancies have a different gestation period from females. I could look it up…"

"Is there anything else you forgot to tell us?" Potter asked his head down, not looking at Draco.

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Every Pure blood family had a little magic of their own which was unique. Something which made them special, something that helped them in someway to maintain their family, passed down through the generations. The Weasley's clock which was one such thing, a bit of old magic, now transformed into something more user friendly. The Malfoys however did not believe in using magic that was easy on the eye.

Draco had no idea who had first started it, but each Head of house had the power to bind all his immediate family members to him, especially his sons, until they were of age. The magic was something close to a blood bind which gave the father the ability to find his children, where ever they may be, as long as they were not of age. The story was that in the old days, the blood tie was so strong, the son could be forcibly pulled back to the father, until one son had become a little fed up of being dragged back in compromising positions. When he had come of age, he had altered the magic a little.

Draco, being over 17, meant that his father couldn't find him. But the child he carried within him belonged to his father. The blood tie insured that Lucius Malfoy could find Draco where ever he went. When Lucius Malfoy finally came up with the plan to bring back Harry Potter and his friends for the ritual ceremony for the Dark Lord, he planted his seed inside Draco so he could keep track of his movements.

Now the entire plan had fallen apart. Lucius didn't have a bargaining object and Draco was left with a parasite inside of him.

Draco wondered if he should tell the gathering about it but changed his mind.

One: Malfoy blood magic not to be told to anyone outside the family, and no matter what, he owed it to his father.

Two: they might decide to throw him out and he could not risk that.

Three: If they agree to an abortion then the problem does not even need to be raised.

Four: He was living in a house protected by a Fidelius Charm so no one was going to be able to walk in unless invited. That included would be fathers. At least he thought it would.

Five: Gryffindors were not Hufflepuffs, whatever the similarities. If they were to learn that Draco had come to them as a spy, and had been owling his father with information, they might not feel very charitable.

Six: He now had their full sympathy and trust and he was not about to loose it. Perhaps he'd warn Potter of the Power Transferring Ceremony later. But really, there was no way the Dark lord could capture Potter, one of his friends and his closest living relative, and have them willingly attend a Ceremony, in which all of Potter's powers would be transferred to the Dark Lord.

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He lifted his head and looked squarely at Mudblood, knowing Potter would miss the gesture. "No, I've nothing else to say."

"You should know that abortion isn't an option for you, at least not with a spell," Mudblood told him, holding his gaze. "The curse you used is Dark Magic but more specifically, it was meant to be used on women."

"What does that mean," Draco snarled annoyed while the Weasel muttered something like 'but Mione, he _is_ a girl now.'

"It means, if you want to get rid of that, then you are going to require some form of surgery," she said pointedly.

"What…Muggle medicine…"

"I'm sure Madame Pomphrey can do that if she is willing to," Mudblood continued. "She's a medi-witch, so she might not want to take an innocent life…"

"Innocent life," Draco explored. "I'm not even eighteen yet and you want to tell me…"

"Please, Malfoy," Potter said, in his soft commanding voice again. "Let's talk about teenage pregnancies later shall we? Hermione, this curse…it won't work on him because he's a guy, right?"

"No, Harry," Mudblood said, in exasperation, as if restraining herself from snapping at anyone who was stupid enough to miss the obvious. Which happened to be all three of her friends, though there was a gleam in little Weaslette eye which said she wasn't far behind." The curse will work on him but since the birth passage only forms when the child is ready to be born, he'll probably die of internal bleeding. And even if we do remove the …the fetus surgically it could still kill him. His body is in between in a transition state between male and female, and if we stop that process we might as well kill him or he could be stuck that way forever."

"That's reassuring," Draco said sarcastically. "So, what if I have an accident and miscarry?"

"Just make sure you don't throw yourself down the stairs any time soon," Potter told him dryly, looking down and for some reason that hurt Draco more than anything else.

"Is there nothing you can do?" Draco asked in desperation. Suddenly he didn't seem to have many options.

"We could take you to Hogwarts or St. Mun…"

"No." No way. His father would find him the moment he was out of this house.

"I'll look up some more books," Mudblood said sounding beaten. "But I don't think Male pregnancies happen by accident the same way as females (she elbowed a sniggering Ron) so I really don't know if there are any gender specific abortion spells."

Weasel suddenly sat up on the bed, looking pleased." You mean he's going to have a baby."

"Of course not, Weasel, I'm having kittens"

"Inbreeding has its side effects" little Weaslette said tartly. "But I think in your case, it'll more likely be little snakes."

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"We've got to tell someone," Mudblood declared. "At least, Mrs. Weasley."

"We could wait until the Order meeting is over," Weasel said grumpily, still angry that they had not being allowed to attend it.

"We could just go and see," Weaslette said and got off the bed she was laying across.

"Impressive, Potter," Draco said, in the silence, as everyone fidgeted wanting to speak, but not sure what to do.

"What?" the dark haired head came up and Potter stared in his direction. For a moment Potter squinted and seemed to be trying to focus but gave up after awhile. Draco had noticed Potter do that a lot, as if he could see occasionally but couldn't make out what. Even his friends had noticed the change and had questioned him about it but each time Potter had denied it firmly, so they all assumed though his sight was still improving, the boy-who-lived needed to be led by hand.

"They way you commanded the whole meeting," Draco said.

"Oh, that," a blush spread over Potter's face and he shifted as if uncomfortable. "Hermione calls it my DA thing. You know, we had this Defense against Dark Arts gathering in fifth year."

"The one I caught you running away from," Draco remembered with a faint smile. That had been the one time he'd gotten the upper hand.

"Yes, well…"

"We aren't going to be telling anyone about Malfoy's problem for a while," the little Weaslette said, coming in to the room looking disgusted. "Someone set fire to the twin's shop a while back."

"How are they?" Potter inquired.

"They are fine. They apparently lost some of their test products. Mum and the rest of the volunteers went to see how they are."

"We'll tell them when they get back," Weasel said.

"Let's see if we can settle this ourselves," Draco said, taking advantage of the situation. "After all if Granger solves it without much trouble then there's no need to tell anyone (not to mention the fact as a pure blood Mrs. Weasley might have heard of the blood bond.)

"Who's left?" the Weasel asked. "They couldn't have all gone."

"Tonks," Weaslette said grumpily. "Told them we don't need a baby sitter but they insisted."

Mudblood was the last to go, pausing at the doorway. "Malfoy," she said tentatively. "You sure you want to get rid of your baby? I mean, I'll help you if you want. I really don't like the idea of killing anyone."

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Draco was approached by the Golden Trio later that night, separately. First was the Mudblood who brought him a glass of milk and sat on his bed, looking nervous while her boyfriend had gone with Potter to help him find his toothbrush. After listening to her prattle about what he should eat and how he should dress and what he should not do …the only thing he was sure he could do was breath, and even that was not suppose to be done strenuously, she paused and looked at him in a chirpy manner.

"So what are you going to name …her?"

"It! Granger," Draco bit out fighting the urge the empty the glass of milk over her head. He was going to get rid of it. Cut it to pieces, flush it down a loo. He was definitely not going to keep the thing inside of him; therefore it did not need a name. Names made it personal, more real, which was the last thing he needed.

"Come on Malfoy, it can't be that bad." She actually moved back after looking at his face. "But you can't call it…it."

"It's a boy," he said in a strangled voice. "My father's always had boys and he should know."

"Family spell," Granger said thoughtfully. "Have you thought of a name?"

He spilled half the milk on his lap and sat there fuming, as she performed a cleaning spell and left looking slightly thoughtful.

The moment she was gone, the Weasel entered having left Potter in the bathroom. He was more nervous than his girlfriend, but at the same time a little more confused. His inability to decide whether Draco was male or female seemed to be genuine, as well as his nervous gesture that send the glass of milk flying across the room.

"You know, we could tell mom about it," the Weasel tried. "Err…Mal…Draco, she did have seven kids and you can't go on hiding forever. You know you're going to grow fat and stuff and throw up all over the place." Charming guy wasn't he.

"Not until it's really necessary," Draco bit out. "And Malfoys do not throw up."

"But you can't hide it forever."

"Maybe, later." Hopefully Mudblood would have a solution before he started to show.

"Well, you know, if you want anything…"

"What could I possibly want from you, Wea… Ron."

"Err…I'm sure my mom had some old maternity frocks somewhere…"

The image of him fat and waddling in one of Mrs. Weasley's old frocks rose to his mind. Draco buried his head under a pillow and pretended to be dead.

Potter was the last to approach him, late at night when everyone was asleep. Potter slept in a pair of plain shorts and a ratty t-shirt, either because he did not believing in dressing to bed or because he was bent on making Draco's life more miserable. "Malfoy, you awake?" Potter asked in the darkness.

Draco debated whether to answer or not, then shrugged. It sure as hell beat listening to Weasel snore, or thinking about his mother, all alone in a family crypt. How dare she leave him in this mess and escape? How dare she assume he was going o be all right when he was anything but that? Perhaps a distraction was just what he needed, the more interesting the better. Of course, nothing beat sex when trying to forget something, but there was very little chance of getting laid just then.

"What do you want Potter?"

"About your mother, I'm sorry she died…"

"If you think this is a bonding moment, forget it," he snapped angrily. "If you're going to tell me how alike our mothers are or how we are both mother-less I'm going to kill you with this …pillow and …"

"I was just going to tell you it's ok to be angry at her," Potter said in a little voice.

"What exactly does that mean?" Draco said in a low voice, throwing himself off the bed. and on Potter before the boy could move. Potter had been on his side, facing Draco, lying on the top of the cover. Draco had the smaller boy pinned by the shoulders and was straddling him before he could react. He liked it, the smell of someone who had just washed for bed with a bit of toothpaste thrown in, a look of uneasiness on his face.

"Meep," Potter said, trying to wriggle free. Draco regretted the fact he was resting on his heels since Potter seem to have nice slim hips. At least he wasn't trying to buck him off, just wriggle free from underneath by burrowing in to the mattress. But the wriggling…

"Quit making suggestive moves," Draco hissed in his ear afraid, the Weasel would get up and interpret his actions as a threat to Potter, (which they were) and beat him to a pulp, pregnant or not. "Explain what you just said"

"OOOh," Potter mumbled.

"Good thing they didn't have creative writing at school," Draco drawled, realizing he suddenly had the upper hand. The boy underneath him was trembling a little and it was not from fear.

The words seemed to have snapped Potter out of whatever mental prison he had been in since he managed to get some coherent words out. "You know this might not be the most helpful thing to tell you but I used to hate Dumbledore, that manipulative bustard."

"If you tell me he's anything like my mother…"

"I loved him like a father," Potter continued. "And he had to go and get himself killed. For a while, I wasn't sure whether to hate him for manipulating me, or for getting killed, or love him because he was dead and not coming back. While he was alive, he did care for me and got me out of a lot of tight situations."

"And you decided that…"

"I haven't decided anything yet," Potter said softly, going limp beneath him.

"That bit of insightful psychology was supposed to help me, how?"

"I don't know," the idiot had the nerve to shrug. "Just that you can't always forgive the people you love just because they're dead. Sometimes you just hate them for dying and leaving you in a bigger mess that you originally started with." True, but since when did the prat actually think before he spoke?

"I must have switched my Advanced Psychology class with Care of Magical Creatures." Draco said, then shifted a little, so rather than letting his weight rest on his heels, he now sat lightly on Potter's middle. The boy stiffened, feeling the change, and tried to sit up. "What about Pansy?" he asked.

"What sort of a question is that?" Draco asked, trying to shake the mental image of the pug nosed female, who albeit his friend, was not something to be brought up at a moment when he was straddling a very nice body.

"I thought you were dating her," Potter gasped out as if Draco had squashed him.

"Oh please," Draco moaned sitting on Potter completely and feeling the air escape out of the boy in a whoosh. "I was on the fence for a while there, but when she ran my way like a charging Hippogriff, I jumped off the other side and ran for my life."

Potter giggled a little. "I like the imagery," he said with a shake of his head. The giggling made him sound younger and more relaxed; approachable. So Draco kissed him.

As first kisses go, it was a terrible kiss. The position wasn't right and his nose bumped against Potter's Their teeth clashed, then his hands were all over Potter, trying to lift his top and touch him. Potter gave him a violent shove that made him topple off the bed.

"What the hell was that?" Draco started.

"Malfoy, you just stay away from me," snarled Potter.

They didn't realize they were both shouting until the Weasel gave an odd snort like snore and asked in a half awake voice "Mum, is it time to get up?"

"Go to sleep Ron," Potter said softly and then turned around to Draco who was sitting on the floor by the bed, looking half stunned and half angry. "Malfoy, I have no idea what you're playing at, but you just can't get on someone's bed and proceed to molest them."

"Yes, Potter, you were protesting so hard I lost my hearing," Draco snapped, from his

position on the floor. He stood up fast and grabbed Potter in the groin. "I see you don't have equipment failure where I'm concerned. May be it was the Weaslette's fault."

Potter tried to hit him, missed, and sat up on bed in the semi-dark looking slightly flushed. "Malfoy I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Ever thought that you might be gay?" Draco asked.

"All the time since you showed up," Potter answered with brutal honesty. "And I'm not, he added, spoiling the effect. "But Malfoy even if was, not that I am, I don't believe in…"

"Rushing in to things, plunging head first into the unknown…"

"Having sex with people I don't like," Potter finished, making Draco feel as if he had been punched in the middle. "If I am gay, that is," said in an even smaller voice "Plus, you just lost your mother today. I don't want to find out my first time with anyone was while I was blind with a guy…or girl…because I'm not gay, who wanted to forget his life was a mess. I deserve better than that, Malfoy so maybe later when you are yourself we could… that is I'm not gay but…we could"

"Have a picnic," Draco stalked to his bed with a growl. "Forget it Potter." Was that something in the line of when you are not carrying your father's bastard inside of you? Did Potter admit he was gay or at least bi? Did Potter just admit he was virgin?

Potter lay back on the bed and looked in the general direction of Draco. You…err…want to cuddle?"

"What!"

"It helps you know, when there's someone to hold you like you did to me and…"

"Potter, the Sorting Hat should have put you in Hufflepuff," Draco said, turning his back to Potter and closing his eyes. Later on, though, as he lay all alone thinking about his mother and how she used to comb his hair, he wished he had taken up the offer for a bit of human contact.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Sight Unseen.

Disclaimer: - I'm a bad person. I've stolen someone else's idea and publishing stories based on it. When this is over, I'll iron my hands --- ok, maybe not.

Laura has betaed this chapter and all the chapters before this as well. Without her, I'd be lost.

Emma- Yes, I took your advice. I really didn't notice that the breaks didn't show up on the web in the earlier format. So thank you for pointing that out and for the nice review.

Alexander- Thank you. I've written up to chapter 17. I'll try to post them one by one.

Everyone else – I need more reviews. Pleeeeeeese

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Harry sat up on his bed feeling hungry. He was somewhat confused, wondering what was wrong. It was still dark, though there was faint light coming in from the open doorway, leading in to the hallway. Now that Kreacher was no longer around. they did not bother to lock the door.

Then, it hit him. He could see. He could see the open door, the line of yellow light, the dark walls, and the portrait on the wall. Excitedly Harry jumped off his bed and rushed in to the hallway to confirm that his vision was back. It was! He actually stopped himself from jumping up and down with joy; he could see, not as clearly as he would like to, but he didn't have his glasses on. He was so happy he couldn't bother with small details such as sharp outlines. He could not go to bed, but he couldn't wake anyone up at what ever time it was.

"Tempus," he muttered. A little clock appeared before him, informing him the time was 4.15 a.m. It wasn't until he was halfway down the steps into the kitchen, that he realized he didn't have his wand with him. His wandless magic had not blown anything up. Surprise!

His first thought was food, having missed dinner the night before, so exploration of the kitchen ensued. He had not seen Grimmuald's place since he had moved in. The sight of the dark house with the elf heads still mounted on the wall, and the screaming portrait of Sirius' mother, did nothing to dampen his new found enthusiasm. He hurried to the kitchen intent on finding some leftovers. Then he stopped. It was just as he remembered. He half expected Sirius to be sitting there, drinking from a mug, his long hair falling down. He shook his head to clear the image and moved forward. He wanted nothing to spoil his new found happiness.

An order meeting had taken place the previous night. It had gone on until early morning, discussing Malfoy's pregnancy , until the announcement on the attack of the twins' shop brought it to an abrupt end. (Wow, he was still trying to come to terms with that!)Some how, they seemed to have forgotten to clean up the kitchen table after they had finished, because they had all left in a hurry. Maybe only Mrs. Weasley had returned, while Mr. Weasley had been working over night at the Ministry, with Remus and Tonks, out on some assignment. Perhaps she had decided to clean up in the morning since she woke up before any of the resident teenagers did.

Out of curiosity, he made his way up to the table and started to read the collection of material in front of him It turned out to be some sort of recording of what the Order had been discussing. Not surprisingly, Lavender Brown's name was no where to be seen on the list of people who had attended, but Kingsley Shakelbott was also missing. Something was going on. Harry needed to know what it was. After all, the Order, or at least Mrs. Weasley and Prof. McGonagall, were doing the same thing Dumbledore had done to him in the fifth year, and he was helpless to fight back. Not unless he was prepared to have constant screaming matches with everyone, which would prove he was unstable and not capable.

So, squashing down any form of guilt he was feeling about reading restricted material, he proceeded to devour the document, knowing that he could be interrupted at any second. He was so engrossed in what he was reading that he did not hear the foot steps until they were almost at the kitchen door. He hurriedly put the document back on the table, but could think of no way out of his predicament. It wasn't as if he had done anything wrong, but for a moment he wished he had his invisibility cloak with him.

He looked up expectantly, hoping for once in her life Hermione would have gotten up early to do some extra reading, but knowing it was pretty useless. Mrs. Weasley breezed into the kitchen in her tattered dressing gown and a pair of bunny slippers, looking tired but satisfied. Maybe Mr. Weasley had come back last night, which might explain someone forgetting to clean up the documents from the Order meeting. After all, there had been several Order meetings. No one had even tried to listen in on them after Ginny had been hit with a stunning spell, woven in to the wards of the kitchen door, which had her unconscious for the better part of a day.

"Oh," she said, looking startled to see someone in the kitchen early in the morning. "Harry dear, you startled me. I didn't expect to see anyone here." With that, she moved forward and did an extremely odd thing. She reached for the Order minutes and started to slowly pull it towards her while talking to Harry in a normal manner. "What are you doing up so early, Harry. Are you sick or something?"

"No, a little hunger," he said puzzled, but unwilling to ask what exactly she was doing, or why she hadn't questioned whether he'd read any of the sensitive material left in plain view.

"You missed dinner," she said brightly. With the Order minutes tucked under her arm, she reached into the oven and pulled out a plate of something Harry couldn't quite make out. "Here you go dear," she chirped, putting the plate in front of him. "Some left over dinner I spelled to keep fresh. Just under your nose dear, or do you want me to feed you?" Then he understood, she thought he was still blind!

She didn't know he could see. Harry opened his mouth to correct her assumption when suddenly he realized something. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage.

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"Hermione," Harry prodded his friend awake, "Wake up."

She was up in an instant, her hair looking like a cartoon picture of someone electrocuted; in a pail blue nightdress which he had never seen her wear at school. In the next bed, Ginny stirred then sat up, her wand pointed straight at Harry. Again, he marveled at her reflexes and knew she would make a good Auror.

"What is it Harry, did you have a dream?" Hermione asked, trying to push back her hair so she could actually see the room.

"No, nothing like that," Harry said happily. "I can see."

"OOOh," squealed both girls. The way they jumped on him made him realize just how happy he was to having good friends.

"You were having an orgy and forgot to invite me," the laughter from the doorway made them all look up at Ron leaning against the door, his hands crossed, looking ridiculous in pajamas he had outgrown a while ago.

"I can see," Harry told him enthusiastically, knowing his friend would understand. "I got my vision back."

"That's great mate," Ron said rushing to his side and giving him a hug. "Completely cured?"

"Better than I did before," Harry said. "Not very clearly but enough to know what is what. I think it came back in spurts but today, when I woke up, I could see."

"That's wonderful," Ginny said hopping up. "Wait till mum hears about it."

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Harry said, sitting back. "I did go down today and…" he proceeded to tell them of the mornings' incident.

"So she thinks you can't see," Hermione said frowning, not at all pleased about what Harry had done. "Because you didn't want them to know you read the Order minutes."

"Yes," Harry admitted, wondering if he was in for a lecture about moral behavior. "I just don't want to tell anyone yet."

"Are you going to tell Molly?" she asked. "They are all worried about you - Remus especially and Tonks. Even Snape's supposed to be asking about you."

"Yes, well …"Harry wondered whether it was fair to do what he planned, but then he sighed, remembering what he'd read. "Don't you want to know what I found out?" he asked instead.

"Sure," Ron said, scooting forward so that he was sitting beside Harry. They all sat in a circle on Hermione's bed and discussed what Harry had read. All of a sudden he was reminded of the school dorm, when they all crowded on to one bed to discuss the day's events.

------------------------------------------------

"So they knew Malfoy was lying about his mother and that Snape put a location charm on him," Hermione said thoughtfully. "But in Harry's dream, Lucius said it was he who put a location charm on him."

"He also said only a Malfoy could find it," Harry reminded her, knowing that she was more familiar with his dreams that he was.

"Maybe it was an ordinary dream," Ron said pointedly.

"It felt real," Harry said with a shake of his head. "And my scar hurt so…"

"But," Ginny said. "Apart from that, you didn't learn anything really important did you."

"There were the progress reports from Fred and George," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Big help that is," Ron said. "All we know is they are watching over some place, but we don't know where or why."

"Maybe," Hermione said looking thoughtful. "Remember the time I told you I met Percy when I went to Knockturn Alley? He mentioned something about them being in a club a lot."

"But what club?" Ron said in frustration. "It's not like we can ask them."

"But we can find out," Harry said excitedly. "They usually do bring in documents for the meetings and I have a plan…"

"What does that involve?" Ginny asked with a bright eager smile.

"For one, no one must know I can see. Not your mother, father or anyone else for that matter. I know it's hard, but please, all I ask is for some time. After all, they are withholding information from us."

"Fair enough," Ron said, after thinking a bit.

"No one," Hermione said, confirming the command. "Not even Malfoy. Harry you share a room with him."

"Especially not Malfoy," Harry said firmly. "I don't trust him that much. What if he spills it out to someone just for the pleasure of doing it?"

"So, what's the plan?" Ginny asked, her eyes shinning with excitement.

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Draco sat up on his bed and looked at his deserted bedroom. It was not very often that he woke up after everyone else had. For some reason, the thought disturbed him. Had they all gone somewhere, leaving him?

Swinging his feet over the side, he tried to sit up and then paused, as a wave of nausea washed over him. Damn. He leaned backwards, taking a deep breath and tried to think of something calming that would not encourage him to spew his guts out. He was a Malfoy. Malfoys did not get morning sickness or any other sickness, for that matter. He lay back and thought about the disappearance of his room mates, and the fact that he was not totally on their side.

It was not as if he had switched sides. It was more like he was here to stay. He could see little point in choosing sides, but he could not see him returning to his father in the near future either. He had not completed his first mission and as a result, he had not become a fully fledged Death Eater. All he had was the Dark Mark It was not yet connected to the Dark Lord, which meant it never burned and he never had to answer the call. It had been agreed that while at Hogwarts, where apparating was not possible, trying to do so would probably have flattened him like a pancake.

Still, when he had agreed to his father, well, really been forced to agree, he had not thought much of the long term consequences. He was to have the baby, yes, a replacement heir, so he could finally be free. He would bring in Potter and all the rest, in exchange for his mother and money, to give them a new start. He had not even thought of where to go, just somewhere sunny, where there was no snow or cold. He hated the cold and the dark, but yet, had spent all his years at Hogwarts in the dungeons. He had not thought of the middle process involved, the actual process of putting on weight and having mood swings.

But he was regressing, avoiding the main problem, the thing growing inside of him. It was uncomfortable to say the least. His stomach hurt, he felt tired, though he had not done anything the entire day. On the top of it all, he had started to feel nauseated. Not in the morning just-out-of-bed type of sickness, but when he was in the company of people. The smallest thing would make him want to hurl, not that it was surprising, considering the fact he was in the midst of a group of wild animals.

The day before, he had felt his breakfast rising, after seeing the inside of Weasel's mouth filled with half chewed breakfast. The fact that the inside of his mouth might look the same did not make him feel better. But what had really made him feel queasy had been the sight of a blood covered rag which he had acquired as a part of the ritual. He had brought it with him, hidden in the small bundle of cloths which were his sole possessions. The blood on the rag had dried to a dark brown mess which smelled repulsive.

After hearing the news of his mother's death, he had been tempted to throw it in the fire place and watch it burn, or let one of the house-elves dispose of it, but the thought that it might be useful one day, made him hold on to it. Taking a deep breath, more to steady his stomach than anything else, Draco sat up and looked around again. Then he noted the pile of folded cloths on corner of his bed and smiled, pleased. Finally, the house-elves had gotten around to doing the washing; or rather Dobby had since they had stumbled across the other elf, lying drunk on the kitchen floor, the previous day.

"Hell," he said and flopped back into bed. He was here for good, so he might as well get used to it. Perhaps, if he was nice to Potter, maybe he could get the dark haired idiot to buy him some more clothes. Now, that was a thought. He had to take it slow with Potter and work up from the beginning. There was a very good chance that the stupid Gryffindor was a virgin; having problems dealing with the fact he liked Draco. Draco was aware that that whatever Potter was feeling for him could be physical and nothing more, but he could work around it. After all, it wasn't like he was going to fall in love with Potter or anything disgusting like that.

At least the trio, plus little Weasel, had agreed to keep quiet about his condition, though for how long he had no idea. Damn his father and his potions. Damn his father for ever.

-----------------------------------------

"Harry," Hermione said a little nervously as they stood by the girl's bedroom door. "Is it all right if I leave today? You know, I haven't seen mum and dad for a while and I'm sure that obnoxious cousin of mine is gone…it'll only be for two days. I'll be back before the next Order meeting."

"You don't have to ask me," Harry said in surprise. "I'm surprised you waited so long."

"I couldn't leave you before, when you couldn't see," Hermione said, sounding shocked. "Ron is clumsy as it is and Ginny is busy with housework. I thought you might feel uncomfortable having her lead you around so…it really wasn't a bother."

"You mean, you should have gone ages ago to visit your parents but decided to stay because of me," he said touched. "Thank you, Mione," he pulled her forward into a hair –in-the-mouth sort of hug. "I'm sure Ron and I can mange fine until you come back."

"I thought now that you're better, I could floo over to Hogwarts in the mornings to see if I can help Prof. McGonagall with the research," she said, her head on his shoulder. "And I thought I could go and look up something for Malfoy to help with his condition. Oh, Harry, I'm so tired of this waiting, doing nothing"

"I know," he agreed. "Speak of the devil," Harry mumbled in to her hair. "Here comes Malfoy…is he wearing something I bought?"

"Remember, you can't see," Hermione mumbled in his ear, shifting so they were no longer hugging. She straightened up and walked around Harry to face Malfoy.

"Am I interrupting something?" Malfoy drawled, with a smirk that suggested otherwise.

"No Malfoy," Hermione said smoothly. "I was just saying good bye. I'm going to stay with my parents for two days. I was hoping someone could keep an eye on Harry until I come back. You know, Ron's too rough."

"Mione," Harry gasped, while Malfoy only nodded thoughtfully.

"Why, thank you Granger," he said as if she had done him a favor. "Potter and I are going to be the best of friends by the time you come back."

After Malfoy had sauntered towards the kitchen looking like a barefooted model, Harry looked at Hermione furiously. "What exactly was that about," he asked.

"That way you can keep an eye on him, the same way you plan on doing with the Order," she said briskly, watching the blonds' retreating back. Harry watched the play of muscles underneath the trousers and the soft material that hugged his back. Next time, he told himself, he was going to buy clothes that were three sizes too large so he was saved from the sight of Draco-fucking-Malfoy's ass as he walked.

"What," he said stupidly.

"You weren't listening," Hermione said a little amused. "You seem distracted."

"Of course not," Harry said automatically. "So you want me to watch over Malfoy while he pretends to be watching out for me."

"Yes."

"Isn't that sort of warped?"

"Only a little," Hermione shrugged. "But you were the person to come up with that idea, so what's wrong with you using it twice."

---------------------------------------

Hermione packed sensibly enough for a bookworm taking only twenty of her most important books for her two day stay with her parents. Ron had a theory that she maintained her figure by carrying all those heavy books to and fro. She had just walked in to the front hall and was getting ready to step outside, waiting for the all clear signal which would mean there were no Muggles outside when the front door opened and Mr. Weasely walked in.

He looked around a little surprise to see Hermione with her traveling bag in hand then looked at his wife. "Where's Remus?" he asked Mrs. Weasely who had appeared looking worried.

"He's resting," she answered. "He was tired from yesterday's excursion; you know how he is for a few days after full moon. What is it Arthur?"

"You might as well call everyone together since I don't want to repeat this," he said looking at the gathering. Harry and Ginny stood next to Ron while Malfoy hovered in the background looking uncertain. Mad-Eye Moody walked in behind Mr. Weasley, followed by the twins.

"I've already told Bill and Fleur," Fred said looking miffed and Harry noticed that he walked with a slight limp and his head was still bandaged. Apparently the attack on their shop had not been as simple as they had all being led to believe and he felt anger at the adults who tried to shield them from reality.

"Since you want us all here," Harry said as Tonks and Remus trailed down the staircase, "this must be a general notice."

"It affects all us wizards," Mad-Eye told them.

"Well, er…Malfoy," Mrs. Weasley said. "Go to your room." Even after all the time spent with them, she was still unsure as how to address the boy, unlike Remus who addressed him by first name. She found in easier to pretend he did not exist and did not speak to him directly if she could help it.

"He should stay," Harry spoke for the first time. "He's wizard too, and if you are willing to tell us something, I have a feeling we can read it off the Daily Prophet."

"No," Mrs. Weasley said automatically.

"Now Molly, it's not a secret," Mr. Weasley began placating.

"I don't think…"

"Let Potter decide," Mad-Eye said firmly. "I have a feeling that had Dumbledore being alive he would have let the boy have more access to what we are doing. This concerns him as well, so boy, what's your call."

"He stays," Harry did not even hesitate.

"Well then," Mr. Weasely said before they could all argue about it. "Firstly Minister Scrimgeour was attacked today on his way home from work. His condition is highly unstable and he might die. If he does, they will be brining back Minister Fudge to replace him since there is no one more qualified for that position at such short notice."

"Why not you?" Harry asked.

"I'm too muggle friendly for some people," Mr. Weasley said easily. "But that is not my concern, the main concern is that should Fudge come in to power one of the first things he's planning on doing is bring in Harry for questioning."

"What!" several people present exclaimed.

"We are in a state of emergency now that You-Know -Who is back and that gives him the right to question anyone under the influence Veritaserum if he sees fit, before a full council."

"But you said the news was only a couple of hours old," Malfoy spoke suddenly. "How can Fudge make plans even before he's in power and how can he make them so fast?" He was thinking like a true Slytherin. Harry saw Hermione give the bond a grudging look of respect.

"We have our suspicion that it might be an inside job and may be Fudge was on to it," Mr. Weasley said looking apologetic.

"How long do we have?" Hermione asked. "That is to come up with a way to stop Fudge."

"Until," Mr. Weasley swallowed. "Scrimgeour dies."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Leading the blind.

A/N - To Emma Lynna () –if all relationships were based on approval, hey, wouldn't that be great. I won't have to plan on killing half the people I want to. 

To enay8 – thank you

Unbetaed coz the betaed edition is at office. I'll repost this asap.

Disclaimer- not mine

Mudblood-Granger had left for the parents the day before, a little later than expected and somewhat reluctantly, after receiving the shocking news but determined as well. Arthur Weasley had pointed out that it was unlikely her Muggle-born parents were going to get much protection if the wizards were incapable of looking after themselves and perhaps she should go and see to their safety.

Draco had secretly admired her courage and determination as she had stridden out, leaving most of her books behind, looking like a warrior striding out to war. Which left the rest of the gathering to discuss what to do with Har- Potter should Fudge come into power. Mad-Eye had gone as far as to suggest they obliviate Potter before the actual questioning, until Weaselette had pointed out that might include up to three to four years of Potter's entire life, which would make him a basket case at best. After all the stronger the spell, the more damage it could cause. They wouldn't want their Golden Boy to lose his edge. The best they could hope for, it would seem was to hide Potter and keep hoping that the unfortunate Minister of Magic would not die at an unforeseen time.

"Can I ask a question?" Draco asked Snape as the potion master got up to leave.

"If you must," he said.

"Just what sort of injuries are we talking about, with the Minister of Magic?"

"He was poisoned," Snape said. "As you should know once in the body the poison breaks down and it is hard to identify what it was."

"Could it be…" here he looked around to make sure no one was listening "…something my father was working on." i Who exactly was the Werewolf staring at, him or Snape? /i 

"Maybe, but there's no evidence of such in the Manor," Snape said, with a scowl. (Translated to do you think your father's going to tell me?) "I require the poison if I'm to make an antidote. Just hope we get it before it's too late, for all of us."

True, the entire household was in disarray because of the announcement but what Draco could not understand was the way Potter seemed to have been abandoned by his friends. Not that he minded it, since it gave him time to be with Potter a lot more, but he still could not comprehend how they could leave the blind boy to fend for himself. After Mudblood had left the Weasel seemed to have become forgetful of Potters' condition and his sister seemed to be just as bad.

For the world of it, Draco Malfoy could not understand what exactly had changed in the inner workings of the Golden Trio. The morning after the bushy haired female had left, (leaving her killer cat behind,) Potter walked in to the second floor bathroom where Draco had just finished brushing his teeth. Since he did not have his wand with him, he could not use a Magical toothbrush and was forced to use a Muggle one instead. He had noted that Potter also seemed to prefer a Muggle brush, which usually sat on the left side of the holder, while Draco's one was kept on the right. To avoid mix-up, Draco's was bright green while Potter's was, obviously, red.

"Potter," he greeted the Gryffindor as he paused at the doorway, probably having heard the movement inside. He had left the door unlocked; after all he was looking for combing his hair not looking for pimples.

"Malfoy," Potter said with a faint frown. "I didn't know anyone was here, I'll just come back when…"

"No need, I was just finished," Draco said about to leave when he was hit by an idea. "Where's the Weasel?" he asked, switching their toothbrushes around. Somehow the thought of Potter using his toothbrush made him feel nice… once he might have found the idea disgusting but for some weird reason the idea was more intimate.

"Er…" said Potter, obviously at a loss. "Can you…give me my toothbrush, Malfoy?"

"Here," Draco gave him the green one.

"Are you sure this is mine?" Did Potter know that he scrunched up his nose when he frowned and it looked bloody adorable? "It loo – feels different."

"How can if feel different?" Draco asked, hoping there were no such identifiable marks such as bite marks on the front. He took Potter's toothbrush off the stand and examined it closely. Nothing, so what was the fuss about? "It's yours," he said firmly. It wasn't as if Potter could see or anything.

Potter held the toothbrush gingerly for a moment then nodded "Ok, where's the

toothpaste?"

That afternoon, he found Potter kneeling by his trunk looking for something to wear. "Let me help you," Draco said, bored out of his mind. He had been in the room the entire day while Potter, Weasel and the small ginger haired female had been in her room either enjoying a threesome or from the smug look in the Weaslette's face, coming up with a new trick.

"I...," said Potter, looking over his shoulder then stopped. "Ok."

"Going down for dinner?" Draco asked, unashamedly going through Potter's clothes once the wards around the trunk had been taken off. There was a cloak made of slinky material he was very curious about but it was not the time to ask about that. Potter had started to go down for dinner with them occasionally and in Draco's opinion, had improved on getting around blind tremendously. He no longer tripped over carpets and odd ends lying about and seemed surer about where all the implements were when eating. However, when Mrs. Weasley had pointed it out Potter had simply grown quiet and started to avoid eating with the rest.

"Not really," Potter said, thoughtfully, from behind him. "I have to go meet the Order members and discuss about what to say and do if Fudge comes into power. They think the first thing they'll question me about might be the death of Dumbledore."

"Oh," Draco said thoughtfully, not surprised to be told of this piece of information. After all as Potter predicted the next day's Daily Prophet had carried a headline stating that Scrimgeour had been injured in the line of duty and Fudge was campaigning for the position that was to be vacated soon, and a list of things he planned on doing once he came in to office. One of the first things he'd promised on doing was improve the standards of Education Institutes and investigate the mysterious happenings related to the Death of a prominent Headmaster.

The thought did not bode well for Draco but even more for Professor Snape. The man was in more trouble than ever should Potter spew his guts in front of a full panel of wizard and witches. However, there was only so much tension one could endure before either breaking or growing bored with the whole process. He had, in the mean time fought tooth and claw over the announcement of his condition to the rest of the Order mainly because he was hoping for a quick solution from the Mudblood.

"Potter," he said suddenly a thought entering his mind as he riffled through the clothes. "Where is your underwear?"

"I…" Potter blushed slightly. "I don't have …that many."

"What!" Draco practically fell back on his heels.

"Well, you see, my relatives dress me up in my cousin's clothes and I usually don't want to wear his used underwear."

Draco could understand the sentiment. He would not have been caught dead in someone else's clothes if he could help it. As it was, he had little choice on what to wear apart from what Potter had bought for him. "Oh," he said at a loss of anything to say. The idea of Potter prancing around without anything to wear underneath those jeans was getting to him. And back at school, under those robes, had he been naked.

"Here," he said, holding out a t-shirt that had seen better days.

"Thanks," said Potter and for a moment he was sure that their eyes met though it could not have been, since Potter was blind. He watched as Potter took off his current top, a ratty t-shirt with a huge stain in the front where he had spilled his tea and tossed it on the bed. Then he held out his hand and waited for Draco's selection to be placed on his hand.

On the impulse Draco took the t-shirt, kept in on the open palm while letting his fingers linger a little longer than necessary, then stood up and turned around. Standing up brought him closer to Potter than he was comfortable with, making it hard for him to look away. He had seen Potter's bare chest countless times, having shared a room with him, but at that moment he was a lot closer to Potter's chest than he had been for sometime.

Potter was not scrawny; he would never be called well built but there were well-developed muscles without an ounce of fat of them. The boy would never have survived the dungeons, Draco thought. He was not built for the cold weather. The chest was well defined, the ribs visible but not overly so, with dark nipples surrounded by a few random dark curly hair, as far as he could tell. There was, however a fine line of hair that bisected the chest, trailed down and divided to allow space for the navel before finally disappearing in to the waistband of the jeans. Draco's fingers itched to follow the tempting line of hair down, which reminded him of a stream of dark allure which he knew was pooling just below the waist band worn low on the hips. (No underwear…oh Merlin) He reached out to touch Potter, overwhelmed by the smell rising from the smaller boy. It was totally masculine, a dash of sweat and tea left over from the spill and the heat from the body made him want to bury his face in the bare skin and inhale sharply, knowing his nostrils would be full of that unique smell. He suddenly realized that he was standing too close to Potter, his hand out stretched, not two inches away from his chest as if to touch him and thanked the luck stars that Potter was blind. Wondering how long he had been standing there he turned around, picked up the discarded t-shirt instead.

He walked away from the tempting figure thinking hard about everything else but red lips and green eyes and instead buried his head in the t-shirt and inhaled sharply. The smell was intoxicating, making him feel dizzy with need. He rubbed it against his cheek before balling it up and throwing it in to the corner of the room where the boys had taken to tossing their dirt clothes, not noticing a pair of very sharp green eyes following his every move.

That night the Weaslette had a grand fit in the sitting room about attending the meeting while the rest of the order were in the kitchen. She accidentally set fire to the sofa, which spread to the carpet and up the drapery. Everyone present had to rush to the rescue while Draco watched from his position on the staircase through the railing as they all started to run around like headless chicken. One of the twins, the one without a bandage suddenly developed a nose bleed, probably from running head onto a wall and while every one was trying to quench it, the fire mysteriously died down. Draco slinked in his room, prepared to tell Potter about the commotion only to find out that the boy was not there.

After about 10 minutes Remus brought up a soot covered Potter they had found wandering around the kitchen, while everyone else had been in the sitting room. Apparently the Weasel had pushed his friend into the kitchen during the commotion and had all but forgotten about him.

"What are you doing?" the Weasel demanded.

"It's unlikely he can find his clothes since he can't see," Draco explained to the moron. "After all you seem more preoccupied with your girlfriend coming home to bother 'bout your …" he pushed the unresisting hands through the sleeves "…friend." He pulled the front flaps together and started to button them up. Potter did not resist but stood like a mannequin, the only sign that he was alive being the flush that had spread over his neck.

He wondered if Potter would ever get used to it since Draco had been dressing him quite frequently.

"Hermione!" there was a squeal of joy and the Weasel tore down the stars leaving the Golden Boy alone at the top, while Mudblood maneuvered her single suitcase of clothes and two un-shrunk packages of books. "You are back."

"I came early," she said happily, hugging her boyfriend as if she had not seen him in years. "Harry," enthusiasm "Malfoy," she said cordially as she spotted them.

"Granger," Draco said neutrally, before putting a hand on Potter, firmly and leading him down. His arm muscle spasm briefly almost as if a bolt of lightning had run from Potter to him from the way Potter froze it was obvious he was not the only one who felt it. Both boys looked at each other puzzled but the process did not repeat itself and Draco did not let go of his hold. It was not a new occurrence but it was starting to be more frequent. But he does not let go of Potter. Which was good thing because the Weaslette came barreling down to greet her friend and would have knocked over her boyfriend / ex-boyfriend had Draco not been holding on to him.

The days following the return of the Bookworm, Golden trio celebrated the in the girls' bedroom while Draco lay on his bed his hand trailing across his stomach which was strangely sore. Not painful but uncomfortable, almost as if he had been punched in the middle a couple of days before and left to heal without magic. He had not been in touch, literally with Potter, since Mudblood had come back and he missed it.

From the partially open doorway he could hear the bursts of laughter that punctuated the conversation of the Gryffindors and felt a wave of loneliness wash over him. He got up slowly and strolled down to the kitchen wondering what to do when Granger's pet Kneazel streaked by. Draco followed it until it reached the back door and disappeared outside using the flap installed in the door specifically for it.

He stood hesitantly before the door, his hand hovering on the doorknob before in a lurch of aggression he closed his fingers around it and pulled. The door was locked. Of course, he thought as he stood there looking at the door, his legs shaking, his mouth feeling dry. What in the world had he tried to do? Go outside, leave the safe setting, right into his father's grasp…his hand crept towards his middle and rested there feeling the slight curve where there had been none before.

He leaned shakily against the wall and took a deep breath when a hand descended on his shoulder. With a startled yelp, which was very un-Malfoy like, Draco turned around to face his cousin. She was wearing a normal robe of pale gray and her hair was toned down to a normal dark brown. "It gets you, doesn't it?" she asked pleasantly

Draco blinked in surprise; sure she had been about to accuse him of leaving the house or something unheard of. "The house," she said briskly, taking her wand out. "Stifles you after a while …makes you want to scream. Can understand what happened to Sirius, being locked in the house all the time with only the elf heads to look at." She pushed open the door. "Well, come on. I'm going out for a spot of fresh air. You might as well join me."

Draco looked through the open door way into a neglected back garden as if he had just been presented with a doorway to hell. He gulped, and then looked at Tonks who was looking back at him expectantly. "Is it also under the Felidus Charm?"

"Oh, yes," she said cheerfully. "No one can see us out here."

Draco stepped out carefully, one step at a time and was grateful for the support his cousin gave him. He stood barefoot on a patch of dying grass in a neglected garden full of dying bushes and a stagnant pond. The fence surrounding it was a fading gray with flaking paint and a few sagging fence posts. Beyond it he could see the sidewalk and the road and a couple of Muggles walking across, slowly.

He turned around in a full circle and then looked up. The sky was a dark blue, almost black and night was just around the corner. He could see a couple of stars appearing and a whiff of cloud passing by. There were no birds as such but the sound of muggle vehicles and the voices of children playing in the distance could be heard; Draco took a deep breath and realized just how stale the air inside the house had been. He swung around and his hair, which was longer than what he usually wore, wiped around after him and landed neatly where it belonged.

"There used to be an advertisement for a hair product where the girl had hair like yours," Tonks said conversationally as her hair grew in to a fizzy lump that looked like Mudbloods' had she combed her hair with nettles. "I used to want hair just like that but, well, never did get your mother's hair." She said with a shrug. Draco wanted to correct her that his mother never had fine hair his father did but he did not reply. The kitchen door opened once more and they both swung around; Draco note the guilty expression of Tonk's face and realized that perhaps he shouldn't be outside, but she relaxed when she saw the smiling face of the Werewolf.

"Remus," she said half inquiring, half pleading. "It's such a nice day to be outside."

"It is," he said with a smile and held out a pair of shoes to Draco. "How about a walk downs the road? Draco's dressed like a Muggle already and I can transfigure my robes to something else."

"Should I?" Draco asked apprehensively. "I don't think it's a good idea." He was sweating, feeling uneasy. The moment he was to step out of the charmed area his father could apparate on them and …

"Just this once," the Werewolf's eyes were odd, almost pitiful. "We know you won't run off now."

There was no logical way Draco could turn down the offer so he agreed, letting the two adults lead him down the road, his feet feeling odd in his new shoes and his stomach cramping uncomfortably from fear and excitement. The two adults on either side of him walked calmly, talking to each other in a friendly tone, which spoke of respect and love. From the way the Werewolf would occasionally reach over and touch the Auror it was obvious their relationship had reached a level where they were confidant with each other in the presence of a third party.

With each step Draco expect the Death eaters to appear, with each sound he expect a curse to hit them, but after a nerve wrecking walk of half an hour which to him feels like an eternity, they were back in the dying garden. He was suddenly reluctant to step inside; to the gloomy must interior full of dark corners and unpleasant smells. They must have seen his hesitation, since they smiled at him and motioned him inside.

The Werewolf kept a friendly hand on his shoulder, and though his body seemed to strain unnaturally for a moment, Draco felt nothing; then he was dizzy as if he had been walking on flat ground to be confronted with a bottomless pit but the feeling passed as fast as it had come.

He stepped in to the kitchen, turned down the offer for a drink and started to walk towards his room when he remembered the date. And he knew why they had let him go outside and had been nice to him.

Today was his mother's funeral.

The air inside the house felt heavier and stifling, the tall dark walls menacing. By the time he reached his bed he was exhausted as if he had run a marathon. He did not even bother to take his shoes off before he threw himself on to the bed and sleep claimed him immediately.

He awoke briefly to watch the trio troop into the room and Mudblood pick up a huge book in one hand and took Potter's hand in the other.

"My turn today," she said brightly and Draco could see that she looked nervous. Then he fell asleep only to be jerked awake by an ear splitting scream. He wrenched his body to an upright position, heard his back snap and stumbled to the head of the staircase. The portrait of Mrs. Black was screaming louder than ever before issuing forth words, which were making Mrs. Weasley, squirm with embarrassment. The members of the Order were all trooping outside, the twins looking slightly amused and Draco was sure they were repeating the words to themselves so they could memories them.

The only person missing seemed to be Severus whose faint outline could be seen in the kitchen, deep in discussion with Mudblood who had the book she had taken with her open at a specific place and was pointing out something of interest to him. Potter was no where to be seen but apparently he was in the kitchen since Mudblood was making gestures towards someone she could not see, though the former potion master did not even glance his way.

Draco stumbled back to bed, wondering whether he'd missed dinner and why he felt like death warmed up. He was asleep instantly. The next moment he was forced awake by a crashing sound, sat up confused to see the light streaming from the windows. It was morning. He had slept through the entire night and felt as if he hadn't slept a wink. He was also wearing the clothes from day before and his mouth tasted like a clothes hamper full of unwashed socks. The thought was all he needed for his stomach to heave.

He rolled off the bed and on to his knees with none of the usual Malfoy grace and was sick instantly at the foot of the bed. It seemed to go on forever and for a long time he could not even comprehend what was happening. He could feel everything inside him, including the inner organs working themselves out of this mouth and he retched, feeling terrible. By the time he'd caught his breath and was able to sit up, he had an audience.

He sat back weakly and much to his disgust he noted that the vomit had seeped into the edge of his slacks and the entire room smelled of puke. He struggled to his feet weakly, cringing as the vomit-wet lining of his slacks pulled against his ankle and sat on the bed, breathing deeply, wishing he were dead. The room was too quiet and when he looked up both the bushy haired know-it-all and the Blind Wonder were looking at him. At least Potter was looking in his direction and the Mudblood was staring at him with a look of pity on her face.

"What're you all looking at?" Draco managed to snarl pushing back his hair that had fallen on to his forehead making it seem as if he was looking through some yellow curtain.

"Malfoy," the Mudblood said slowly. "How long have you been feeling sick?"

"I'm not sick," he said dismissively starting to stand, up then deciding against it.

"Here, Mione, I got it," the Weasel said, returning with a book, which she had probably requested be brought to her, from her room. She took the book without a word and started to turn the pages until she reached somewhere close to the middle. Then nodding knowingly, she took out her wand, pointed it at him and muttered something.

For a moment, nothing happened but then he felt as if someone had punched him in the middle. He drew his legs up, curling in to a ball, gasping for breath as the feeling continued for a prolonged moment.

"Oh, God," the Mudblood exclaimed, rushing to his side. "Malfoy, what did I do, did I get it wrong?" Her hand was cold on his forehead and again he felt the jolt of something that rushed from her to him, almost like a void being filled only this time, when he opens his eyes she is sitting on the floor with a look of astonishment on her face and he is not feeling as bad as he had felt before.

"What happened?" Potter's voice was full of confusion. He could only hear the noises and it probably confused him a lot more than anyone else.

"Nothing, really," the Mudblood's voice was shaky. "I…" swish of her wand and the pool of vomit at the foot of the bed disappeared. "…don't have the makings of a Medi-witch." She got to her feet but held on to the bed frame for support. "I think I now what's going on, but. ..Oh…" she swayed unsteadily on her feet and he red headed boyfriend was at her side instantly.

"What did you do to her?" he shouted at Draco angrily. "Wait till I get my hands on you…"

"Ron," she said sharply. "He didn't do anything to me. That is not anything he could help." She sat down on the Redhead's bed and signed. "Malfoy, have you being feeling tired lately. Nauseated?"

"No," he said through gritted teeth. "I've never…"

"I thought it was because…" Potter hesitated then said in a low voice. "…you know, he's..." i yes /i "…pregnant."

Draco wondered where the Boy Wonder decided that becoming pregnant was the same as contracting a sexually transmitted disease. The way the boy made his condition sound as if it was disgusting made him cringe. He looked at Potter, noting the flush, which had worked itself up his face and wondered perhaps the boy was merely embarrassed. But why?

"Yes, Harry but the thing with male pregnancies is that the body requires a lot of magical energy. He's not female so he doesn't come with all the organs and necessary …er…equipment" how quaint "…so well …in the wizarding world when a male become pregnant he usually borrows energy from his partner."

"Like…" Draco started to say then snapped his mouth shut.

"Go on," the Weasel said neutrally.

"Yesterday, the Werewolf touched me and I felt sort of a tug but…then…"

"You felt it now when I touched you too?" the Mudblood said. Draco nodded. "You took some of my magical energy off me to feed your need, only you are much more powerful than I am so you sort of drained me. Plus, with Remus, it wouldn't have worked; he's a werewolf like you said so the two of you aren't compatible."

"So, if I don't touch anyone, I won't get the energy needed to maintain this parasite and it would die," Draco tried to reason.

"You'll die first," Mudblood told him. "He'll drain you dry before you do anything else."

"So, have you come up with anything new in your research?" Draco asked.

"You mean about the …" hesitation "…abortion."

"Yes."

"Have you thought of adoption, Malfoy?" she asked softly.

"Are you serious," he said in anger, jumping to his feet. "You expect me to go through with this thing and have a …a bastard and then give it up. I want to get rid of this as fast as possible…"

"Mione, adoption, is that when you get someone else to look after your child?' the Weasel asked.

"Honestly Ron," his girlfriend said in frustration. "You'd think…"

"That doesn't exist in the wizarding world," the Weasel told her. No matter what he was, the Weasel a pure blood and knew some concepts the other two did not.

"Why not?" Potter asked.

"Because, for us children are precious so why would you want to give away something as valuable as that. Most pure blood families don't have enough children so they'd never give their children to be raised by strangers."

"But you've heard of abortions," Potter pointed out.

"Well," the Weasel looked embarrassed. "There are certain spells you can use to find out if your child is magical or not and if you think it's a squib, sometimes they get rid of them…you know bad for the family's reputation,… we'd never do it. We do have squibs in out family but certain pure bloods (glare in Draco's direction) just don't want to admit they have a tainted bloodline so they... Anyway, who's going to adopt another wizard's child?"

"I spoke to my parents when I went home and they agreed," Mudblood hesitated a bit. "It's not like they haven't raised a kid with magical powers before."

"I'd rather kill it than have a couple of Muggles raise my kid…" the Draco stopped realizing he was defending something other than getting rid of his unwanted burden. "I don't want it."

"You have no right to make a decision on someone else's' life," Mudblood spat back. "Give your baby the right to…"

"You got it right the first time," Draco shouted back. "It's mine so I decide to get rid of it."

"You can't mean that," Mudblood gasped, looking shocked. "Have you thought of it? I mean, you might actually like the idea…"

"Point out one single teenage my age who's happy to be in my condition, thanks to his or her father," Draco shouted back. "I'm a wizard for Merlin's sake. We have longer than Muggle life spans. If I were to have a child I'd do it on my own time, at my own pace when I'm thirty not now. I should at least have been given a choice…"

"Who's making a choice…"

"I don't want it…"

"Him, it's a boy…"

"It is a nuisance and I…"

"Enough, both of you," shouted the Weasel looking slightly shocked. "Mione, let's go down for breakfast and Malfoy, go jump off the roof."

"Shut up, Ron," Mudblood snapped angrily. "Malfoy, is that your final say? You …"

"…don't want it," Draco said pronouncing each word clearly. "Yes, Granger, you heard me right."

"Then, ok," she said in a small voice. "It's your choice like you said and who knows how I'll react if I were in your position so, ok, I'll help, but I don't know how." She gave a shaky laugh. "I'm not cut out to be a medi-witch apparently and I have to look up a few more things. In the mean time why don't you…" she held out the book she had been referring to. "…take a look at this."

Draco took the book with a shaky hand. It was a detailed medi-witch /wizard guide to male pregnancy and childbirth.

Draco took off the vomit stained slacks and sweat soaked shirt and threw them in to a corner before pulling on his change of clothes and walked back to the room to retrieve his shoes. He had gotten used to padding around on bare foot that he did not miss them at all. He pushed open the room door and walked in on silently, the door hinge being noiseless and stopped short.

His back turned to the door, stood Harry-blood-Potter taking his clothes off. He had already taken his shirt off and was in the process of pulling down his shorts when he stopped. He must have heard Draco walking in, since he turned around and looked in his direction. Draco froze, knowing that Potter couldn't see and if he stood perfectly still perhaps is presence would go undetected. Potter's back was smooth, the shorts riding low on his hips so that he could see where the waist curved slightly to meet the hips, the way there was two dimples just above the waist. The sunburns he had acquired had disappeared but the tan had remained despite the gloom of the house. His muscles were not that of a seeker, sleek and strong but of a beater as well. There were signs of being used to doing hard manual labor. He must have shuffled his feet because Potter froze.

"Is…anyone there?" Potter said, a little uncertainly.

Draco stood still. For a moment Potter stood, his left hand inside the waistband of his shorts, the other hooked on the belt as if waiting for something. Then after a moment, Potter nodded to himself and straitened his back. Then in one smooth move he pulled down his shorts.

Draco had seen a lot of naked boys in his time. After all they showered together after matches at Hogwarts but the sight of Potter in his glory made his hiss. Potter must have heard something since he turned around and looked in his direction. Draco stood still trying hard not to alert the boy of his presence. The Wonder boy was well endowed.

There had been a couple of rumors going around the Slytherine common room about the abysmal size of the Boy-Who-Lived since he was never seen fully naked in the showers and was said to be notoriously shy. But seen his body, Draco decided that the rumors were baseless. Whoever had started those (probably himself) was clearly misguided. Potter was well developed, and his pubic hair was darker than his …other hair. And he was semi-hard. (Not Draco, Potter! )

Draco stared as Potter hastily grabbed for a pair of jeans, nice smooth firm butt, probably from all those hours sitting on a broom, …just the jeans…right…he didn't have that many underwear and the thought of that body covered in just one layer of clothe, just…and as Potter scrambled into them and pulled up the zip, hopefully none of in interesting parts got caught and then a t-shirt, pulled on back to front. Still blind…nothing to worry there.

Draco stood still until Potter was fully dress, wondering why the boy's neck and face was burning red. He stood silently for a moment then rushed to the bathroom, this time to relieve the pressure in his slacks.

The morning sickness apparently did not make daily appearance and Draco sat up feeling tired but not overly so (Mudblood magic was good for something) and as he was the last to get up, all alone in the room. He walked to the bathroom sleepily and pushed open the door…and walked in on Potter shaving. Looking from a mirror. Shaving using a muggle razor. Not that he had enough facial hair to bother shaving everyday. They both stood still for a moment then Potter looked up and their eyes met in the mirror. Potter's hand slipped and a small bloom of red appeared on his cheek.

"Potter," Draco said slowly. "How long have you been able to see?"

"Er…Malfoy," Potter stammered letting his hands drop. He turned around to face Draco directly, his green eyes shinning with guilt. "For some time I guess."

"How long is some time?" Draco asked softly taking a step forward.

"About two weeks," Potter confessed looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry about that but no one knows apart from Ron and Mione."

"Why all the…" Draco trailed off understanding. He wasn't a Slytherine for nothing. "The meetings." He said with the feeling that he should hit himself on the forehead with his palm. "You couldn't get into it but you came up with a plan to fool anyone. Anyway, did you come up with it or did Granger?"

"It was my idea," Potter said.

"Figures," Draco drawled. "Granger is too straight laced to do something illegal."

"That's what you think," Potter mumbled then looked at him defensively. "What're you going to do now?"

"You expect me to do anything about this?" Draco asked, thinking back to what he had done and said when he'd being under the impression Potter had been blind.

"Well, are you going to tell anyone?" Potter asked taking another step back.

"You did a strip tease for me the other day," Draco said in wonder taking another step forward. Potter also too a step back and stopped as his back collided with the sink.

Draco took two bold steps forward and suddenly he was standing next to Potter, whose flushed face was inches away from his own. He lifted his hand, noted that Potter didn't flinch when he fingered the drop of blood on his face and moved it to his mouth. "Well, Potter, that was very Slytherine of you," he drawled tasting the metallic flavor.

"Why Malfoy," Potter replied with a faint smile. "You just complemented me."

"If you take it that way," he said then leant forward the kissed him. This was perfect, compared to the disastrous first kiss. Potter was warm against him, his trim small body fitting his slender narrow body perfectly. Their lips met without a pause and then their hands were around each other, Draco smelling the shampoo and soap Potter used, tasting his toothpaste.

The two boys tasted each other, letting their tongues battle, each different yet complementing each other. Potter was an explorer, Draco found out, who was keen to find out every nook and cranny in his mouth, while Draco liked to plunge right in, at least where kissing was involved, sucking the tongue and grinding their hips together.

At last the lack of breath forced them apart though they remained close together, their hips touching. Draco wound an arm around Potter's shapely behind and pulled him against his arousal, hard, making both of them gasp.

"Now, that wasn't too hard was it," he said with a satisfied smile.

"No, Draco, it wasn't," Potter said while one of his hands, reached under his t-shirt and felt his middle.

He felt the magic he'd gotten from Potter and signed satisfied. He didn't even feel bad about the reminder of his condition; though it was the last thing he needed at a time like that.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: More plans

"So, all we have learned is that Scrimgeour was hit by some poison dart like… thing." Hermione started.

"Which I saw in my dream or vision of Voldemort, in which he was holding it in his hand," Harry concluded. "It was a green cylindrical object like the one they found at the site of the attack. I suppose the Order doesn't think that's news because who else would attack the Minister of Magic apart from a Death Eater?"

Hermione picked up where Harry stopped. "It's supposed to be a slow poison which according to the report drains the user of his magical ability and then his physical strength."

"But…" Ron said, frowning. "There's something about it, isn't there?'

"Yes," Hermione said, thoughtfully. "This poison according to Professor Snape it does not just absorb Magic but it stores it…so…"

"That doesn't tell us anything, does it?" Harry finished going over what he had managed to read from the Order meetings. "I guess there's no way they could find out…"

"The poison adapts to the person it's administered to," Hermione went on, reading the paper in her hand. She had been the one to come up with the duplicating spell which Harry had cast on the documents while he was in the kitchen with the rest of the Order distracted. The first time around all he had done was hastily read the parchments which had not being enough, so the next time, he had managed to extract copies. With his new found talent for casting small spells wandlessly, Harry had managed to retrieve a lot more than it would have been possible by memory.

"We've gone over this so many times I'm fed up of it," Ron said, balling up the paper and throwing it in the air. Hermione picked it off the floor and burned it alone with the rest.

"You are right," she said. "All this is doing is giving me a headache." She leaned into her boyfriends embrace and Harry watched, feeling a little jealous as the two of them relaxed.

"I've …got something to tell you guys," he said, feeling a little nervous. Everyone was out of the house and only the five of them remained. Well, it was now or never.

"What?" this was from Ginny who was sitting a little way from him. She had become more and more left out as the Golden Trio had discussed their findings. Half a year as his girlfriend was not enough to overthrow the six years of friendship the three of them had. He really didn't want to tell her, but he felt better telling it in front of his friends. That way he wouldn't have to re-tell the whole thing and his friends could offer moral support if things turned out badly. Or, they could always beat me to death, he thought.

"Dra…Malfoy found out that I could see," he plunged on. "He walked in on me when I was shaving…( his once a week shave which Ron laughed at) and…"

"Oh, Harry," Mione said, looking distressed. "What if he tells someone…, what did he say?"

"You mean," Ginny said, sounding annoyed. "He knew you could see today and went through that entire charade at breakfast for nothing?"

Harry blushed at the memory of that morning, when Draco (in his mind, that mind-blowing kiss had been enough for them to be on first name basis) had gone through extra trouble to make sure Harry was more uncomfortable. First, every thing from a glass to a spoon was placed in his hand with extra care and each time the blonds' slender fingers would curl around and trail down his arm when no one was looking. Sometimes, under the pretence of being extremely concerned, would wipe the corner of his mouth while his foot would be sliding up and down Harry leg, making him want to bolt upstairs and lock the bedroom door, with both of them inside.

Not that Harry was very eager to start a physical relationship with a Death Eater in training but he was curious. With Ginny there had been no hurry to get to the next stage and when they had tried all he'd felt was guilt as if he was about to have sex with his sister. But with the blond none of the inhibitions mattered, his body responded well enough and if he was to admit it he had been somewhat fascinated by Draco from the time they'd met at Madame Malkin.

"There's another thing," he said, feeling a little ashamed. His face was burning up and he wondered how his friends would react to his confession. "I think I'm gay."

The silence was more shocking than anything else. Harry looked up from the loose corner of the chair he had been digging in to and concentrated on his friends, all of whom were wearing looks of surprise on their faces. At least, it's not disgust, yet, he thought.

"It's Malfoy, isn't it?" Ginny said, looking distressed.

"Yes," Harry admitted in a small voice. "It sort of happened…"

"I told you I was right," Ginny said, insistently speaking to Hermione. "I told you he was obsessed with that blond bimbo but did you listen to me? No. I told you Harry was forever speaking about him at school but you told me it was natural. I told you he knew how long it takes Malfoy to do his hair while he wouldn't notice it if I shave my head bald." Spit was flying out of her by the time as her red –haired temper came in to play. "You," she said, turning around and facing Harry, "Have you any idea how much of our time together was spent on listening to 'wonder what Malfoy is up to today' and 'I'm going to follow him around.' You missed Quidditch training because of him and all you ever did was comment about him throughout the whole of last year. He won in the end didn't he?"

"What do you mean?" Harry said, weakly. Ginny was very like Mrs. Weasley on a smaller scale.

"Well, he was trying to get your attention for the past five years and the one year he ignores you, you decide to get obsessed with him." She sprang to her feet and stormed to his side. "I had to pretend it was me who called us off, I had to pretend I didn't mind while all you did was buy him clothes and care about his wellbeing…" Slap. He felt his cheek burn but did nothing to stop it. After all he deserved it. "Well, Harry, I've loved you since I was eleven. Can he say the same? Do you love him, does he love you?"

"Ginny," he said, holding out his hand. "I love you like a sister and no, we don't love each other and it's not like we are in a relationship or anything. It was just one kiss for God's sake and… I'm sorry if I hurt you. I think I've had doubts about my sexuality for some time now. You know, but just was too busy trying to stay alive to bother with such stuff."

"But Harry," Ron said, in aloud voice. "I mean, are you sure?"

"About being gay or the part about Malfoy?"

"Both," Ron said unconvincingly. "I mean, I'm glad you're not going out with my sister but as people go I'd rather she go out with you than and one else. I know you and you're a descent guy but Malfoy…why not Charlie or someone like that?"

"Charlie's gay?" Hermione asked, with a gasp.

"Yes," Ron said, with look of slight discomfort. "Fred thinks it's all the dragons. Needs something bigger than him to ride."

"Charlie looks like you Ron," Harry pointed out. "Wouldn't that be more worrying?"

"But Malfoy…" Ron protested.

"I thought you didn't hate him like you did before," Harry said. "It's just that I didn't want to at first but these past weeks he's being paying attention to me and treating me so nicely." ( he hadn't been all that grossed out by the physical contact between the two of them Harry had after all been wanting to touch Draco for quiet some time now.)

"Yes, but still, I'm a Weasley, I have to put up a token protest. Especially when considering him shagging a guy I think of as my brother."

"Harry," Hermione's tone was urgent. "You two haven't gotten physical…"

"God no," Harry exclaimed. "Not yet," he added in a small voice.

"That's it," said Ginny, storming out of the room with a look of disgust on her face.

"Let her go," Hermione said, when Harry got up to follow her. "She saw it coming long before any of us did. Why do you think we fought? She kept on telling me you have a thing for Malfoy and I kept on telling her she was delusional. I mean, it's Malfoy and he's a guy and you've never shown any interest in guys before."

"Yes, but…" Harry frowned, listening as he heard a faint scuffling sound outside but it was quickly over so he assumed it was Ginny leaving.

"But why him?" his best friend (female) said, with an anguish wail. "Why not someone nice and…and…not pregnant?"

"Yes, well, there's that," Harry said, weakly.

"May be he got knocked up deliberately," Ron said, cheerfully.

"I really don't think that's possible," Harry said. "What would he have to gain by that. And why in the world would he want to get rid of the baby now. He won't even let us tell anyone else so it's not like he's looking for sympathy or anything."

"May be he put you under some kind of spell," Ron said, hopefully.

"Or maybe a love potion or maybe he's a male veela and I'm his mate," Harry said, sarcastically.

"Him, a veela," Ron scoffed. "That pointed faced…"

"He is easy on the eye," Hermione said, thoughtfully. "And everyone thinks he's good looking."

"Why thank you, Granger," the amused drawl at the doorway stopped everyone and they looked around to face the intruder, who was being dragged in by Ginny.

"Guess who I found eavesdropping," she said, with false cheer. "Someone doesn't know how to mind his manners."

"But you were talking about me," Draco drawled, before sitting on the bed next to Harry, not too close to be touching but close enough to be in Harry's personal space.

"I was going to yell for you before but he held me back," Ginny said fuming. "Harry, he's strong. He just sort of clamped one hand over my mouth and the other around my waist and I couldn't break free."

Harry knew why she was emphasizing Draco's strength. After growing up with six brothers Ginny could hold her own with most people and with his slim pale looks, Draco did not look like anyone who was going to win in the physical strength category. "But he didn't hurt you, did he?" Harry asked. Then he looked at Draco who had the good sense to look embarrassed. "We don't eavesdrop on people here," he said, suppressing the guilt he felt and the memory of countless conversations they'd all over heard or listened to in secret.

"No, he didn't hurt me but let me tell you one thing," Ginny said forcefully. "I don't care who you are…" she took out her wand and shoved it up Draco's nose. "…but if you hurt him, I'll cut your balls off and stuff then down your throat."

"I'll help," Hermione said, viciously, looking at Draco. "We have no idea what's going on but once we agreed that we would help Harry with whatever he did and if he's happy with you, we'll go alone with it. But…." Harry had to admit his friend could have stopped a herd of stampeding hippogriffs with her glare. "…you hurt him in anyway, I'll gladly perform an abortion on you, with out any painkillers."

"I'll do it for you anyway," Ron offered with a snarl. "I'd much rather you stay away from him."

"Ron," Harry protested.

"All right," Ron said, in a tone which said it was anything but. "But if he hurts you I'm going to kill him."

"It's not like Potter and I are going to get married or anything," Draco drawled while Ginny huffed and left for the second time.

"I suppose it figures," Hermione said, thoughtfully. "Remember what you said about your mom and dad, Harry."

"What?"

"That they hated each other until fifth year and how your father was an insufferable show off," she continued "…who used to tease kids in their spare time."

"Tease is too mild a word," Harry said with a smile, remembering Snape upside down with his underwear on display.

"More like torment those smaller than him because he could and also because it go him the attention of one Lily Evans," Ron said thoughtfully. "Who in turn couldn't stand his guts?"

"Ye….s," Harry said wearily.

"Doesn't that behavior remind you of someone," Hermione asked pointedly looking at Draco.

"But…" Harry protested weakly though he could see the similarity. "Draco doesn't…didn't want my attention. He just tormented all those kids for fun…right Draco?"

The blond purposefully avoided looking at Harry. "So, you just compared me to Harry's father," he said, thoughtfully. "Does that make me the man of this relationship?"

"Not at all Draco," Harry said, sweetly. "After all, I'm not the one who's pregnant."

"So I look like a veela," Draco said, as he shut the bedroom door.

"I suppose it's better than being told you look like my dad," Harry said, as he reached around his boyfriend (was he?) and locked the door. Everyone else was busy getting the house ready for the imminent arrival of Bill Weasley and his fiancé. They were to move to the Burrow later that week with Remus and Tonks since it was full moon but hoped to join them back at Grimmuld place once that was over.

The house elves were running around busily, cleaning some more disused rooms while Mrs. Weasley was pondering whether to put the two love birds in the same room or in separate rooms. Ron and Hermione had also gone to help, leaving Harry (still considered blind) and Draco (unsure what to do with him) alone.

"Finally," said Draco, sitting on Harry's bed. "Alone."

"Yes, well," Harry said, nervously looking around. He could hardly sit on any other bed knowing fully well Draco expected him to go and sit next to him but still.

"I don't bite," Draco said, softly, seen through the hesitation.

"Yes, but, I'm new to this…"

"Just sit here," Draco said, making room and Harry hesitantly sat next to the Slytherine. The earlier kissing incident had been unexpected while being locked in the bedroom with his boyfriend seemed premeditated. He had no idea what to do.

"So, you didn't know you were gay or at least bi?" Draco asked as Harry sat stiffly.

"No…though there was a time when I thought Bill Weasley was cool and …Wood was a good flier but …" he laughed a little. "Hermione has this theory I had a thing for Seekers."

"Such as…"

"Cho," he said, noting the blond stiffen with jealously and felt pleased. "Then I kissed Ginny for the first time after she became a Seeker and caught the snitch and then… you were …are the best Seeker around."

"Not as talented as you," Draco said, putting a hand around Harry's shoulder. He gently reached over and pulled off his glasses and kept them on out of reach

"Uhmp," Harry said, nervously and jumped, then relaxed against the firm shoulder. "I like this…" he said softly.

"Like what?"

"Remember, back at the Burrow when you held he like this," Harry said. "With me, everyone expects me to save them. Even Ron and Hermione. Ginny as well I suppose. She's a strong girl but they all expect me to be strong for them so they don't want me to be weak. And sometime, I just want to relax against someone and let that person hold me and tell me it's going to be al right. I don't want to be in charge all the time. Sometimes it's nice to let go of all the control and let the other person lead." He hesitated. "Even the Order, with all their secrecy is trying to protect me so when the time comes I'll march up to Voldemort and kill him. I'm just blabbering aren't I?"

"I do understand," Draco said, gently. "Now about us, Harry, I'm not promising anything."

"I know."

"I don't love you."

"I don't love you either."

"But I want to kiss you."

"Can we… keep this above the waist…for the time being," for the guy who's supposed to be the Savior of the Wizarding world, Harry sounded rather small and insecure.

"Only if we do something now before they try to force the door down," Draco said with a smile and turned around and kissed him. Then he drew back. "It might be easier if you were to sit on my lap."

There was a moments' hesitation then Harry blushed and buried his face in Draco's chest.

"What?" asked Draco, obviously puzzled but also amused.

"I've never sat on anyone's lap before," he said. "I mean, maybe my parents but never afterwards. My aunt wasn't exactly what you'd call demonstrative."

"So," the bond said, pulling the smaller boy on to his lap. "What's this got to do with…" and stopped as his lips were claimed.

This time the kiss was more enthusiastic and after a while they broke off to explore each other. As Harry latched on to his neck Draco moaned then twisted free. "Potter, if you leave a bite mark on my neck, you'll have to explain to everyone how it got there," he drawled casually.

"Sorry," Harry said breaking off and looking ashamed. It was not that he was exactly ashamed of Draco but he wasn't sure about their relationship to announce it to everyone present. Telling his friends was something he had to do, they would have found out eventually and he tried not to keep that many secrets from his friends. Then he hesitated before starting to unbutton the other boy's shirt.

"What…!"

"There's something I need to see," Harry explained. "That day…when I used the slashing hex on you…did it leave any marks?" In answer to his own question Harry intently fingered the pale chest searching for scars. There was only one, a faint silver scar that ran all the way across almost diagonally and he halted his progress to stare at it.

"It was the deepest," Draco explained softly. "Might not have left a scar at all if Pomfrey had healed it. Snape isn't exactly what you'd call a good medi- wizard, just someone who knows enough spells to save his skin. He was more intent on stopping the bleeding, not keeping me esthetically pleasing."

"I don't think it's ugly," Harry said, softly as he leaned forward. Draco gasped as a hot tongue traced a path down his chest following the scar the up again blowing on it. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what it would do and…"

"Shh," two slender fingers closed his lips and then he twitched lightly and gave a half embarrassed laugh. "Watch it; my nipples are some what sensitive."

"Are they," the brunette asked before his mouth closed over the sensitive spot, the tongue curling around it before letting his teeth graze lightly on the skin. Draco groaned out aloud and pulled lightly at his hair.

"You seem to know what you're doing," he gasped.

"Well, Ginny was never this vocal," Harry mumbled and felt the blond stiffen under himself. "Note to self," he said out aloud. "Do not speak of exs while engaged in fore play with current."

"Yes, well," he gasped as the hot mouth trailed own further and the tongue dipped in to his navel. He forcefully pulled the dark boy up and kissed him fiercely while his fingers trailed under his t-shirt, feeling the plains he had seen so many times but had not been able to touch.

He lifted the t-shirt while they were still connected at the mouth then broke off to pull it off and throw it to a side. Then he started to explore Harry's chest pulling lightly at a curly dark hair with his teeth.

"You're just jealous you don't have any," Harry protested weakly.

"I'll show you," Draco mock threatened and the next instant threw Harry across the bed and rolled on to him. "Now we'll see who's…"

"By Merlin," someone exclaimed. "Someone check me for Fairy-dust."

The boys sprang apart rather fast and Harry sat up half expecting to see Ron at the door only to be confronted with two identical red heads. "Hi," he said embarrassed looking around for his t-shirt which was nowhere to be seen.

"Haven't you heard of knocking," Draco said, furiously, as he buttoned his shirt.

"Yes, but…" the usually talkative twins seemed speechless. "But…"

"Pretty repetitive isn't it?" Draco asked, picking up the t-shirt, turning it the right side out and handing it back to the owner.

"Does Ginny know?" one of the twins asked, looking pointedly at Harry.

"Yes," Harry said, blushing crimson. He stood up awkwardly and walked a few steps away from Draco and under the pretence of looking for his long forgotten glasses put some distance between the two of them. "I had to tell her, it wasn't fair with us living in the same house."

"Oh, there you are," said Hermione, walking in followed by Ron who was covered in cobwebs. "We were looking for you."

"We were looking for you too," one of the twins replied. "Thought it was you behind the closed door, only …" he gestured towards Harry and Draco who were looking slightly uncomfortable. Harry was feeling embarrassed and coming to realize that he needed a new prescription for his glasses while Draco simply looked angry at the disturbance.

"Oh," said Ron, looking none too pleased with the idea and tried to be cheerful. "At least they're dressed."

"Not when we walked in," muttered one of the twins.

"Eww," Ron muttered purposefully avoiding looking at Harry as he went to his bed and sat down.

"I'm here too, so can we start," came the disgruntled voice of Ginny who joined them.

"Start what?" Harry said, stupidly.

"Some sort of meeting," Draco said, slowly. "Do you want me to leave?"

"Well…," Harry said, hesitantly.

"I'll leave," Draco said, getting up and walking to the door only to be stopped by Hermione.

"You might as well stay," she said. "It's not much of a secret and we could use a Slytherin in our midst."

"Harry," Draco said, looking at Harry who looked uncomfortable. "Is that all right with you?"

Harry realized everyone was looking at him waiting for him to decide. Did he trust him or not? He took a deep breath and nodded. "Sure, why not," he said then sat down on his bed keeping a fair distance from Draco who returned.

"This isn't really a big deal but …"

"First of all, who are you?" Hermione said. "I mean, are you Fred or George? It's hard tell with the bandages off."

"I'm Fred," said the first twin and Hermione took out her wand and a F appeared on his chest. "Shall we continue?"

"Well, there's good news and bad news," George said, smoothly. "Which do you want to know first?"

"Good," said Ron / "Bad," said Harry.

"All right," said Fred with a flourish. "Bad news first. Snape knows Harry can see and he's faking the whole thing."

"What!" said Harry / "Who told him?" asked Ron / "You told him!" accused Hermione.

"We didn't tell him anything," Fred said, looking affronted. "He sort of pried it out of our heads, at the last meeting at… well, best you don't know where."

"And why not?" Harry asked with a scowl.

"If we tell you why, will you promise not to blow our head off," George asked looking at Harry who was clenching his hands in to fists and was breathing deeply. "We don't want to be covered in shattered glass."

"Just tell me," Harry ground out in frustration.

"Well, Snape said, let me quote him," George managed to make his face look like Snapes' "'Tell the idiotic boy that the reason he isn't allowed to attend any of the meetings is because his Occulmency is terrible. We don't want the Dark Lord to pick things out of his head, and I was the one who recommended that he be not allowed in to these meetings. If he wants to take it out on anyone, he'll have to take it out on me and not all those people he's living with in that miserable house.'"

"Snape's the one who suggested that I was not…" Harry could feel the anger building up inside of him and had to take a deep breath to calm himself.

"But, he said that if you stop pretending to be blind, that there was some way in which you could help the Order," Fred added hastily.

"Snape actually said that!" Ron exclaimed in surprise.

"No, he actually said 'there's something the idiot Gryffindor can do if he wants to, actually might be his i thing /i as our celebrity. After all, all he had to do is dress up nicely and cause a commotion.'"

"He wants to use Harry as a distraction," Hermione said, in understanding. "Fred, you have to tell us more than that if you need our help." There was no need to add where Harry went his friends went as well.

"Does this have something to do with the Club you keep on visiting?" Harry asked.

"Yes…"

"You're watching over something, aren't you?" Hermione asked finally. "You are guarding something just like at the Ministry of Magic last time. You have to tell us more than that."

"For all we know, it could be plan by Snape to capture Harry," Ron added.

"Get real, Weasel," Draco spoke at last. "Don't you think Snape would have done that already, if he'd wanted to? He's had plenty of chances."

"Just start at the beginning," Hermione said, averting a potential confrontation.

"Yes…" said George taking out his wand and casting a silence spell. "It all started with this…" he said holding out his wand for them to see.

"That's new," Ron exclaimed. "What happened to your old wand?"

"You're not guarding something," said Draco, leisurely, from his position on the bed. "You're guarding someone, aren't you?"

"How?" spluttered both the twins.

"New wand made by Olivander," said Draco, pointing to it. "We know he went missing last year and we…that is, my side before I came here, don't have him, so, either he went into hiding or you have him."

"He's good," Fred said, grudgingly.

"I've got inside information," Draco said, with a self satisfied smirk. "What gave you away?"

"Percy," Hermione gasped. "That day in Knockturn Alley, you pulled out your wand and he saw it. Must have guessed."

"There doesn't seem to be anything for us to add," Fred said, looking disgruntled.

"Why are you telling us all this. You've got the full Order behind you, so why does Snape want our help?" Ron asked. "We told you in on Harry's secret but it isn't as if you just want to share this with us out of brotherly love.

"There's that," Fred said, looking grumpy. "But we know one brother of ours…"

"…who's not too attached to us," completed George. "Percy is working thorough the Ministry to get a search warrant very, very soon and we need to move Olivander to a safe house before the Ministry gets to him."

"Where?" Ron asked.

"Best if you don't know," Fred said in a pompous manner. "But most importantly we'd do this quietly without telling everyone in the Order."

"Which club are we talking about?" Ron asked. "It's not as if there are plenty of clubs in Diagon Alley."

"Who said it was in Diagon Alley," Fred scoffed. "You'll see it when you get there."

"You mean your precious Order has been compromised?" Draco said, derisively. "Doesn't say much for security does it. That's why you want the help of Harry and the rest. Because you're sure which side their loyalties are."

"Is it true?" Hermione intervened before all the Weasleys lost their tempter.

"Someone's been passing information about the meetings to the other side …as in the Ministry," Fred acknowledged. "Nothing big, just the dates and locations. We don't always meet here, you know, we have other safe houses and well, we just need to get Olivander out and away before anyone finds him."

"Why can't you just Polyjuice him in to someone and move him?" Hermione asked.

"Not that simple," Fred said. "Our safe house is at the top of a Club which is both good and bad."

"For one, it's safe because everyone is searched at the entrance and their wands are removed," George continued. "The place is warded against magic. You have no idea what a bunch of magical teenagers can do when they are high on… you know just high…"

"So no magic and…" Ron said, thoughtfully. "If I were Percy and thought you were up to something, I'd put someone to watch over you in the Club. Then I'd guard all the exists and entrances. I take it there are no underground passages or anything convenient for an escape there."

"Probably not accessible," Harry said, thoughtfully. "So you know who's watching you?"

"Yes," Fred said. "And we want them to stay that way because it's easier than identifying the new lackeys from the ministry. They don't blend in at all, but next time, they might send someone who does."

"And Polyjuice won't work because they search everyone who leaves the Club," Fred said. "There are ways of finding out if you've been using them."

"So, what we need is a diversion," George said. "And that is where Harry comes into the picture."

"When are you planning on moving him?' Ron asked.

"Sometime in the coming week, before Bill's wedding. That way everyone like mom will be distracted and since the wedding is at the Burrow most of the Order will be there strengthening the wards. "

"So Bill will be staying at the Burrow?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and mom is thinking of moving here," Ron said. "She's trying to move that clock of ours to the kitchen here so she can keep an eye on everyone."

"Have you thought of blowing anything up?" Hermione asked.

"As a distraction, too suspicious," Fred said. "They'd be on us…"

"Anything at the club?" Draco asked. "Some special occasion you can use to your advantage, did Snape suggest anything?"

"Couples night," Fred said with a grimace. "Romantic dinner and dancing. A low key affair so anyone moving suspiciously will be spotted."

"So what you need is someone who won't be searched," Draco said. "Like …say Harry Potter to visit the club that night with his date and perhaps hand out free autographs. Should distract the lot."

"Who's going to be his date, you?" spat out Ron.

"You need a distraction, not a controversy," Draco said, coolly. "I was thinking of Granger."

"Not Ginny?" Fred said.

"Granger thinks faster on her feet," Draco said without a pause, ignoring Ron's gasp. "She knows more spells than Ginny and she's a better actress. She had me fooled back in fifth year in Umbridges' office."

"We can't let Harry out in the open, it's too dangerous," Ron protested.

"Exactly," George said. "If someone like Harry shows up, they'll have to protect him and he would be in the middle of things so no harm will come to him. We can call the Ministry and ask for extra protection centered on Harry. That way, no one will suspect us of doing anything underhanded. We'll call the press so Fudge or Percy can't interfere with Harry's day out."

"We can fly off the roof while everyone is busy," Fred concluded. "There's only one guy on the roof and perhaps he can be persuaded to come down."

"We'll go through the finer details later," Ron said, thoughtfully. "What're we going to tell mom?"

"She won't even know we're gone," Harry said. "She'll be busy with the wedding."

"Still, you want to use Harry as a distraction so you can make a great escape," Hermione said with a frown. "I don't like it. Are you sure Professor Snape doesn't have anything other option. May be show up himself."

"Snape has a lot to loose," Fred pointed out. "He's the one who's wanted for the murder of Dumbledore …and then there is something else as well."

"What now?" Harry wondered.

"Fudge," George said. "He's being spreading rumors that you're not fit for public appearances and something in the line of either you're mad or dead. We really don't need to prove anything to him, but the people are starting to panic so a public appearance from you might help everyone settle their minds."

"Let me do something," Harry pleaded. "I feel just about useless and this isn't even dangerous. All I have to do is show up at some Club all dressed up with my beautiful date?"

"Ye…s," said Hermione probably thinking if Harry had something to do he would probably stop harassing everyone for action and a visit to a Club was pretty harmless. Additionally, she trusted Snape despite everything and thought highly of him as a professor.

"A word with you Harry," said Fred.

"Outside, alone," said George.

"Is it about Draco?" Harry said the moment the room door had closed behind them.

"He's quick witted, intelligent," said Fred.

"And he's good looking," said George.

"And we take it no one else knows about you two."

"But treat him nicely and he might stay."

"What are you taking about?" Harry said in surprise. "I thought you were going to tell me something like, am I sure about him or that he's a Death Eater's son or that I should watch my back."

"Why should we tell you things you know for yourself?" Fred asked.

"We wanted to tell you if you are going to have some sort of relationship with him don't act as if you're ashamed of it."

"What do you mean?" Harry repeated himself.

"You were all over each other before we walked in but afterwards, you sat away from him and acted as if he had something catching," Fred pointed out.

"I'm not…used to this…" Harry mumbled.

"Neither is he," George said. "And he's with unfamiliar people. Sometimes when you're with a person you have to decide. It's all or nothing Harry, there's no half way."

"I…thanks," Harry said, feeling slightly ashamed. Had he being shunning Draco and had it been obvious to the others? "I'll think on it."

"Another thing," Fred said. "It's not like we're going to take over your family home."

"You mean your mom moving in here on a permanent basis," Harry said.

"She was going to ask you," George said, meaning that they would make her ask Harry officially. "After all, it is your house. Just because we live here doesn't mean it's ours."

"But do be careful," Fred added as an after thought. "There's someone here who's passing information about the Order and that person is very close to all of us."


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer – not mine.

Chapter 15: The locket.

A/N chapter 15 is also betaed but if there are mistakes they are all mine. Not lauras'. Enjoy. Review.

They had always told him that the Weasel was a strategist, but Draco was born plotting. The first thing he would have done, once Potter had recovered his sight, would have been to write to his father, informing him that Potter was no longer spell damaged and ready to be retrieved for the ceremony. Now, without his mother as incentive, and the memory of a warm body snuggling on his lap, he wasn't sure where his loyalties lied. So he kept all information to himself.

He was thinking over his position in Grimmauld Place as Pot – Harry made his way into the kitchen. He had not expected Harry to announce his coming out to his friends quite so suddenly, after just one kiss. He had hoped to stabilize his position before he had done anything like that; only, of course, he had not counted on Gryffindor stupidity. It had strengthened his position and weakened it at the same time. Granger had been more understanding about it, despite what he had been led to believe. He had always been taught that Mudbloods were not tolerant of that kind of deviation and would cause harm. It apparently was not true since she had actively tried to make him feel more welcome, by calling him by his first name and expecting him to address her the same way.

But Potter surprised him the most. He had found out that the Gryffindor never did anything in half. For Draco, the original intention had been to get closed enough to Potter for his own good. True, he was fond of Potter, had been for a long time and he was rather good looking – Malfoy's did not associate themselves with anything other than the best – and since Potter had been harboring some sort of feelings for him, easier than he'd imagined. But what he'd not expected was Potter to treat the whole thing as one step before settling down together. What he'd expected had been the sort of relationship he'd had back at school, a quick grope and a blow job in a corner before hurrying to class, pretending it never happened. There was always the risk that if you acknowledged someone too openly they might expect more from you – like a ring on the finger.

But Potter expected certain things from him, none of which he was ready to give. One was loyalty, the same sort of we- will-follow-you-blindly loyalty his friends gave. He was a Slytherin, which meant the only person he was loyal to was himself. Exclusivity in the relationship- Draco scoffed at the idea, he wasn't stupid. They were stuck in a moldy house where Potter had a lot of bad memories associated with, so naturally he needed a distraction. Draco wasn't naïve. The moment Potter was out of the house and back to school, now that he'd found his true orientation, he would move on to people more his caliber. Perhaps, a fellow Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff. Merlin forbids if he doesn't, because then Draco might be stuck in the same position; he truly did not think of himself as the type of person who was into a one-on-one relationships.

He liked Potter a lot, but to be with him only scared Draco. He was not going to attach himself to anyone, ever again. That way no one would ever, ever have a hold over him.

And though the relationship helped him get along with Granger, the Weasel and his little sister had proven to be just the opposite. They both seemed to have taken Harry's none interest in the Weasley's Chosen Companion for the Boy-Who-Lived personally. All right, it was their sister, but just because Harry was Weasel's best friend did not mean that he had to marry their little girl. It would be too convenient, since the brood of red heads and their would-be-wives seemed to be planning on settling down in Harry's house, while at the same time, driving him out.

The Weaslette had even hinted that she ought to tell her mother of his …condition and would have him moved out of the house faster that he could say 'safe house'.

Harry had finally told them that he could see slightly. He needed to be able to see to get out of the house to the club. It had also been a relief for him, as it was obvious Harry was feeling guilty every time Remus looked at him worriedly. But Mrs. Weasley had been the most vocal in declaring her happiness.

"Oh, good," she had exclaimed, happily, when Harry had said he could see vague outlines and moving shadows. (It would look suspicious if his sight was to return overnight.) "Now you'll be able to come to the wedding. I know Ron and Hermione are going to get married soon. Maybe we could make it a double wedding," she had added, looking pointedly at Ginny. Harry had pretended to be completely blind, though his face had turned red.

Then he'd had a fight with the two younger Weasleys. Over Harry's dress robes that he was supposed to wear for the wedding, no less.

"Harry would never wear anything but red," his ex-girlfriend had announced. "It suits him." For a night wedding, maybe, Draco thought. Potter- Harry was darker than him and could carry off more colors than his own pale complexion. Plus, he had not looked awful in full Gryffindor robes, but to dress him up in official Weasley colors (their house color) was too much for him.

"So does green," Draco said, with relish. "It brings out the color in his eyes and you do remember that he went to the Yule Ball in Fourth year wearing a green dress robe. I say, go for green and silver."

"Maybe we should let him choose it," Weasel said, tentatively.

"It's a known fact boys have no sense of fashion," Weaslette said knowingly. "And Harry's is exceptionally bad. So forget it, this time we're going to dress him."

"I have good dress sense," Draco pointed out.

"Figures," Weasel said. "A pouncy git like you would."

"Then Harry should have excellent taste in clothing," Draco said, maliciously.

"Just because he's experimenting, doesn't mean he's gay," his sister spat out. "He was with me before…"

"So you have the honor of being the girl who pushed Harry Potter over to the other side," Draco said with a look of glee.

"Don't you dare say that to my sister, you poof," Weasel snarled, looking as if he was barely restraining himself from beating Draco to a blond and red pulp.

"What he feels for you is pity," the annoying red headed brat said cruelly. "Harry's all for taking in strays and befriending odds and ends, but it doesn't mean he likes you. Once he gets over this obsession of you, he'll be back to normal."

"He's my best friend," her brother had said. "And I know he deserves better than Death Eater cast offs like you." Luckily for them their conversation had been interrupted by the arrival of Granger, from Hogwarts and Harry, from his room.

"Hermione," Remus said, emerging from somewhere inside the house, to investigate the new arrival, as the bushy haired female surfaced from the fireplace, her armload of books on the brink of falling. "How was your day?"

"Disastrous," she said, sounding exhausted. "And I'm starved. I forgot lunch and by the time I came out of the archive, I thought it best if I came here instead of going to the kitchen to get something to eat. Those house elves seem half crazy with nothing to do."

"We are just about to have dinner," he said with a smile. "Molly went to help the twins settle down in their new apartment and I think Bill will be coming home with her later tonight."

"That's nice," Hermione said, handing her books over to Ron, who was helping towards the kitchen.

"Kitchen for dinner or would you prefer to wash up first?" Remus asked, as the girl looked around tiredly.

"Food first," she said, walking towards the kitchen with Ron in tow. "I don't think I can walk up and down those stairs twice."

"Hey, Mione," greeted Tonks as they all walked in. "How was research?"

"None progressive," she said shortly.

"School archives didn't help?" Remus asked.

"No, not really," Hermione said. "No one's being there since the time of the Founders by the looks of it, and Magic doesn't work in that room so I have to lug each and every book from the shelf and go through it manually."

"Didn't you find anything at all?" Ron asked.

"I found out something all right," Hermione said, sounding slightly hysterical. "Hagrid has hairy armpits."

"What?" said Harry, as Tonks spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice.

"He was moping around the grounds so Professor McGonagall assigned him to me to help with the archives, only every time he lifted his arms, I could see his hairy underarms and…"

"Do you mind," Weasel said after swallowing whatever was in his mouth. "I'm eating." As if the image of excessive body hair on a half giant would stop him from eating.

"At least it wasn't Snape," Harry said, reasonably.

"Thanks mate," the annoying Weasel said with a grimace. "I needed that image." Draco knew for a fact that Snape wasn't that bad looking. Just surly and dark.

"He probably has greasy hair all over him," the youngest Weasley quipped and both Harry and Remus promptly chocked on their drinks.

"Ginny," said Ron sounding shocked. "I can't believe my own sister said anything like that."

"Perhaps he and…Gra…Hermione should switch their shampoos," Draco said, the first contribution at the dinner table he'd ever made. No one mentioned the fact he had addressed Hermione by her first name or the fact he was feeding Harry.

"He's not really greasy, is he?" Hermione said.

"No, he isn't," Remus answered, before turning red when everyone stared at him. Tonks made a choking sound, got up as if to leave, then sat down again, looking disgruntled.

"What about school?" she said with false enthusiasm. "Can we start Hogwarts on time?"

"We can if we had the people," Hermione said, understanding that everyone needed a change of topic. "We are short of one Potions master and a Defense against dark arts teacher."

"Remus could fill that position," Tonks said pointing with her fork.

"What would Umbridge say about half-breeds and dark creatures," said Remus still a little red from the previous conversation.

"There's no clause," Hermione said, knowingly. "I checked with all the school rules and he is free to work there as long as he doesn't eat any of the students."

"I'll be too busy to take up a full time teaching position," he said half –heartedly. "With the full moon, Order business and what not."

"What about students?" Draco asked, as he let one of his hands drop under the table. "Doesn't the school need students?"

"There'll be some if the school reopens," Hermione said. She had been giving it some thought. "Some students are better than nothing."

"And Potions, who's going to do that," Draco asked keeping his hand on Harry's knee.

"I was thinking of Professor Lupin," Hermione said. "Rather than the DADA position."

"What have you in mind?" her boyfriend asked.

"There are no rules saying that teachers have to be full time or that students can't teach," she said in one breath. "Prof. Lupin can take the NEWT classes in potions and Tonks can do DADA. Harry can do up to OWLs Defense classes and we'll help. Draco can do potions up to OWLs."

"What?" gasped Harry, more because Draco's hand had started to trail up his thigh.

"I mean, you were rather good with DA before, and if you could do it with permission…"

"What's DA?" Draco asked. His hand cupped Potters' crotch.

"No," gasped Harry, jumping a little in his chair.

"I know you didn't like it the first time, but you did great as a teacher," Hermione said enthusiastically, probably pleased that Harry hadn't exploded into his famous temper. If Draco had his way, Potter wouldn't be coherent for long. He teased gently, softening his grip then tightening all of a sudden. There was only so much you could do at a dinner table.

"Yes, but…" Harry trailed off as his body started to respond to the ministration under the table. The fact he was dressed in a loose pair of cotton trousers with no underwear was not helping. "I'm not...that good at…stop…"

"But Harry, you were excellent," Hermione gushed on. "Without your training we would never have survived the Ministry of Magic attack that night," she added.

"Without me, you would never have to even gone to that…" gasp as the figures stroked down then circled the head of his penis, which was leaking. "…place…," gasp as the thumb found the slit "…that night."

"Yes, but…"

Suddenly Potters' hand clamped on his wrist tightly, unmoving as an iron manacle, and Draco withdrew, knowing he shouldn't be doing that, despite the wet patch on the cotton trousers. "Then Sirius wouldn't have died," Harry mumbled. He then pushed away the chair and left the kitchen abruptly, holding a serviette onto his lap. Funnily enough, everyone was too distressed by Harry's comment to notice it, apart from the Weaslette, who had been silent during the entire conversation. She narrowed her eyes and glared at Draco, but did not say anything.

"Oh," said Hermione, distraught. "I didn't mean to…" she got up to follow him when the Werewolf stopped her.

"I got a Healer appointment for Harry at St. Mungo, but he might not need it after all."

"You got an appointment for Harry Potter?" Hermione said with a gasp. "That's not very…"

"Of course not," the Werewolf said, looking offended. "I made an appointment for one person without mentioning the name." he pulled out a piece of parchment and gave it to her with a flourish. "The time, date and the mention of one person. You don't need it, so I might as well…" he made as if to throw it in the fire place.

"No!" said Hermione, reaching out and grabbing the paper. "I think it'd be good to have a check up just in case. After all, there is no mention of a name." When she said that, she looked pointedly at Draco.

"Thoze 'orrible pink sheets in my room…"

"Were given to me by my mother," Mrs. Weasely told Fleur (Draco imagined) gritting her teeth.

"Yez, but why can't I share my room with Bill. We alwayz do zat."

"In our family, no one's slept together before they were married," Mrs. Weasley said firmly walking by. Draco looked at Po- Harry who was stifling a laugh and grinned.

"But we Veelas are what you would call - physical creatures. We like touch and feel …" the voices could be heard fading away as the two women argued their way through the corridor. Draco leaned against the abandoned bathroom door and grimaced.

"Finally, some peace," he said in a whining tone.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, shuffling nervously. He apologized too much, tried to take on the blame for things that were not his own and, for a rule breaking Gryffindor, was extremely straight-laced when it came to sex.

"For what, having a bunch of red-heads invades your own house," Draco said, without much feeling. He was tired, but not the sort of magic loss tiredness he had been feeling. Instead, it was the tiredness of being in a large dark house, full of energetic red headed people planning a wedding a month away, with so much urgency, that he was sure it was to be held the next day. There were flowers to arrange, caterers to book and people to invite. On the top of all that, Mrs. Weasely was trying to publicize it as the wedding of the wizarding world. Her eldest son was going to marry into a good (rich) family and to a part veela girl at that. It might be good for her husbands' position at the Ministry and she was trying to make the best of it, by inviting everyone she could think of.

"They didn't really invade," Harry said, apologetically. "They were invited."

"Whatever," Draco said off handedly, knowing that their time together was limited. Even though there were enough bathrooms and toilets to go around, someone was bound to come knocking on the door to find Harry, and panic, since both of them were missing and assume he was hiding parts of Potter in some unknown part of the house. "Now we're here, what do you want to do?"

"Get ready for bed," Harry said, brightly. "Is it all right if I use your toothbrush?"

"Really Potter," Draco drawled, as a knowing smile came to his lips. "You just want to brush and go to sleep? Wouldn't you rather finish off what I started downstairs?"

Harry blushed so hard; his ears looked as if they were steaming. "Better idea, I want you to strip."

"You, what?" Draco said, sounding more amused than surprised. "Is this some sort of cavity search?"

"No," More blushing. The boy was probably feeling dizzy from loss of blood to the head. "You saw me strip, so, it's only fair…"

"If you'd been blind like you'd pretended to be, then you wouldn't have even…"

"Yes, but you saw me, it's only fair I get to see you."

"Fair, Potter," Draco smirked. "That's so Gryffindorish."

"Well, all right," mumbled Harry with embarrassment. "It was just an idea…"

"I didn't say I wasn't going to do it," Draco offered. "If you want me to strip, shouldn't there be some music."

"Oh yes," Harry managed sarcastically. "That's going to help with everyone outside wondering why I need to listen to music in the shower."

"I was just joking," Draco said, pulling off his t-shirt in one smooth move. Potter blushed harder. "It's nothing new," Draco said with a smile. "And it's not as if you haven't seen naked boys before. You went to the same school I did."

"But…" Harry struggled to explain. "This is …you."

"I wasn't aware of an identity crisis."

"Oh, you know what I mean," Harry said, in frustration.

"You know Harry, those clever come backs you sometimes throw at me, you got Granger to write them for you before hand and memorized them, didn't you," teased Draco.

"No, just that… right now, you're very distracting," Harry mumbled, looking mortified. Suddenly, Draco couldn't help it. Standing there in his bare feet, wearing nothing but a pair of thin cotton trousers and a small t-shirt, blushing wildly, Pot - Harry looked adorable. He took two steps forward and caught the other boy in a bone crushing hug.

Harry responded immediately by hugging back, burying his head in the crook of Draco's neck and inhaling deeply. Harry was a very physical creature, who liked to be touched a lot, or probably wasn't touched enough. Inevitably, Harry's hands wandered lower and rested where Draco had no intention of it ever resting, on his lower stomach.

"I wish you'd just forget that for a moment," Draco growled, going stiff in his embrace. He was about to push aside Harry, but Harry tensed also and circled one hand around Draco, trapping him completely.

"Why?"

"I'm going to get rid of it…"

"You haven't been feeling sick have you? Hermione says it's 'coz you've been tapping off my power, you know, those jolts of power you feel when you touch me after.

"No," Draco admitted. He had been feeling better and tapping Harry's power did not leave the boy exhausted, as it had done for Mudbl – Granger. In fact, Harry seems to be a depthless well of power.

"But if you are feeling better because of my energy, doesn't that make me a part owner of the baby?" Potter just had to go and ruin the mood

"Potter," Draco said coldly. "That argument is not going to make me change my mind. Why don't you have your own blood kids?"

"Must you?" Harry asked in a small voice. "There's a war coming Draco, we might not survive it and I know I won't so…"

"What do you mean you won't," Draco demanded.

"I'll tell you later," Harry said with a sigh, and buried his head in Draco's hair. "I really like your hair you know." He mumbled. "Must be a hair fetish."

"What do you mean you won't survive the war?"

"I've never held a baby, you know," Harry continued, softly. "They say babies are soft and cuddly…"

"And they puke and scream and shit all over themselves…"

"Hermione tells me there's a drop in the birth rate in the wizarding world. People are too scared to have children with a war coming."

"Potter, do you intend to die?" Draco asked, coming back to the topic that was bothering him.

"I've seen enough death to last me a life time," Harry said, his voice sounding tired and so much older than his seventeen years. "Draco, don't kill the baby. Let him live. It's not as if he had any say in the matter you know…"

"For the last time, Potter, what do you mean by not surviving the war?" Draco ground out.

CRACK

Both boys sprung apart, Harry reaching for his wand, then relaxed and burst into laughter as they saw the object of their panic. A house elf dressed in an odd woolen hat and a bell shaped pink wool dress stood in front of them.

"Winky," Harry said in surprise. "What …do you want?"

"Me is find something that belong to former Master," Winky said in a small trembling voice. "Dobby is telling Winky that Master Harry Potter should take it so I is bring it to you."

"In the bathroom," Draco said in anger. "Haven't you heard of privacy? Oh, don't answer that, this is so predictable. This entire household has not heard of privacy, locked doors, or knocking."

"Me is sorry, Master Malfoy, but Dobby said hurry, so me bring it," Winky said in her small squeaky voice, which was surprisingly not drunk.

"Oh, all right," Harry said, seeing that Draco was about to explode. "Let's see it."

Draco felt his body go cold, as the house elf took out a small locket from the pocket in its' ridiculous dress, and shoved it under Harry's nose. The darkness coming from it seemed to fill the air and he gagged. What ever it was, he couldn't even focus on it properly, only knew that it was so dark, his insides were rebelling. Harry reached for the object, looking curious, but not worried. Of course, the boy wouldn't recognize a dark magic object if it burrowed into his nose. Draco knew that whatever it was, it was best if Potter did not touch it - so he did the only thing possible. Was he feeling concern for Potter's well being all of a sudden!

He kicked the house elf so hard, it went flying off and hit the wall with a splat. (He, a Slytherin, jumped in front of a Gryffindor and blocked a dark object and kicked a potential threat away! He must be losing his mind. However, kicking the small elf had actually felt good. Maybe that was why his father did it frequently.) The object slipped, sprang free from the grip of the stunned creature, fell to the ground and rolled a couple of times before coming to a halt.

"Don't touch it," he shouted at Harry.

"Draco," said Harry, looking shocked that he had just kicked a poor innocent creature.

"Alohamora!" the bathroom door sprang open under Mudb – Grangers' spell, bounced on the wall and hit Weasel on the nose as he charged through.

"Haven't you heard of knocking?" Draco screamed.

"Did you hurt my Winky?"

"Your Winky?" Harry said. "Granger, you did a two way bond with your house elf!" Draco quicker on the uptake gasped.

"What did you do to my girlfriends' house-elf?" Weasel screamed out. "The locket," both Harry and Granger were coming to conclusions on their own.

"Don't you dare touch that," Draco shouted in panic, his way blocked by Weasel who had stuck a wand up his nostril.

"Winky is not hurt, Mistress," the house elf said in a tremulous voice.

"Harry, it's the locket," said Hermione, coming to her senses. "See it was perfectly fine," Draco said, with a shrug, meaning the house elf.

"Shut up Malfoy," Ron said, aggressively.

"Ron, stop that," Hermione said in exasperation. "Winky's fine, I wish you'd stop over reacting."

"You think I'm overreacting," Ron said, flushing red. He turned towards Hermione who was kneeling next to Winky. "You were the one who made it sound as if someone was being murdered here and rushed into the bathroom." He looked around for the first time. "Why are you two in here together?"

"We need stronger locking charms," Draco said to no one in particular.

"You have no idea what it felt like when Winky…"

"Only a fool would do a two way bind with a house elf," Draco said with a smirk. "Look Weasel, your girlfriends just married a house-elf. A female house-elf at that too, how kinky. Maybe they get off on each others …activities."

"Why Malfoy, the only people who get off on house elves is your family," Weasel snarled back in anger, his wand coming up again. "I hear your father likes them…"

"SHUT UP," Harry bellowed. "Both of you." A bottle of jasmine essence exploded, followed by a glass jar of body oil.

"Effective," Draco said, looking around. "Perhaps you should just blow out the mirror next time."

"Ron," Hermione said, before Ron could retort. "It's the locket."

"The locket," Ron said looking blank for a moment. "The locket," he repeated in understanding. "THE Locket."

"Yes," Draco said, looking at it with narrowed eyes. "Once we've reached the appropriate conclusion, like what to call it, can we all stay away from it?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Weasel said with a sneer.

"You have no idea," Draco said, then made up his mind. That thing was dangerous and this was no time to play guessing games. "Look, I have a little talent. You know something you're born with, the same way Metamorphmagus are born with their talents. I can identify things as good and evil. The talent manifested once I came of age, but even before that, I could usually make good guesses. Anyway, whatever that thing is, it reeks of evil."

"It should," the Weasel said, looking at Draco oddly. "It's a part of Voldemort's soul."

"Ron!" said Granger, angry that her boyfriend had revealed something important.

"It's a horcrux of Voldemort," Draco whispered, feeling disgusted. He stumbled back until he had his back pressed to the wall. He'd heard of Horcuxes as any good Dark Art student has, but to think that object, which on second thought looked pretty harmless, was something as despicable as the part of a human soul torn from its owner willingly.

"Yes," said Harry, simply and picked it up from the floor where it had fallen when Draco had kicked the elf.

"Don't touch it," two voices cried out together. (Draco and Granger)

"What?" said Harry looking at it. "It looks like the one I got from the cave, but…Winky, where did you get this from?"

"From Kreachers' old cupboard," Winky said with a bow. "I is cleaning it when I find it in mess."

"Oh God," said Hermione, sinking to the floor.

"What," said Ron rushing to her side, probably under the impression she had an urge to go crawling into abandoned cupboards.

"How could we have been so stupid," she said holding her head in her hand. "Regulus Black…he probably had a middle name…R.A.B."

"Oh, shit," said Harry, looking equally stupid. "It was right under our noses all the time."

"Can someone tell me what's going on?" said Draco. "On second thought, can this wait until I've finished being sick?" A horcrux of the Dark Lord, how utterly revolting!

"So he had seven Horcuxes of which two were destroyed?" Draco queried. "And you want to destroy the rest as well? How did you destroy the first two?"

"Dumbledore destroyed one," Harry said. "You saw his hand last year, all twisted and black. That's what happened when he destroyed it. The other, I destroyed with a Basilisk tooth."

"Brilliant," Draco said. "You didn't keep a souvenir by any chance did you?"

"No, I have a scar on my hand," he said pointing it out. "I didn't think I'd have much use for it."

"So we need a Basilisk tooth to destroy this?" Weasel said, looking at the locket which was placed strategically in the center, as they all sat on Harry's bed. All differences were forgotten as the four of them (Ginny still sulking in her room) sat on the bed, Harry next to Draco, facing the other two. "I really don't feel like going back down there again."

"The Basilisk," said Draco, thoughtfully. "It must have been there since the time of the Founders"

"Should have," Hermione said, looking excited. "It must have been brought there by Salazar Slytherin himself."

"What destroys the Horcrux?" Draco asked, working his way through the problem.

"Poison?" Harry guessed.

"But you said it was a book. A soul doesn't have anything physical to get poisoned," Draco pointed out.

"Power," Hermione said, jumping up and down in her excitement. "The Basilisk was a monster but it was also a Founder's Weapon."

"The Sword of Gryffindor," both Harry and the Weasel said together.

"Exactly," Hermione said. "I think the only reason you were able to kill one Founder's Weapon was because you were welding another Founders Weapon. Since no matter what, Vol – Voldemort isn't as powerful as a Founder, the Sword should destroy it."

"The Sword of Gryffindor," said Draco looking at Harry in confusion. "I thought that was a legend."

"So was the Chamber of Secrets," Harry pointed out pushing up his glasses. "Actually, I pulled it out of the sorting hat during second year and killed the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets with it."

"You what!" Draco said, facing Harry complete. "You couldn't have. You're a half blood. And only a true Gryffindor should be able to wield it."

"That's what Dumbledore told me," Harry said, not understanding the implication.

"No Harry," Hermione, quicker on the uptake said. "He means someone with Gryffindor blood, as in one of your ancestors was related to Godric Gryffindor."

"No shit," Weasel expressed the sentiments of the entire room.

"So will Vol – You-Know-Who know when this is destroyed?" Weasel asked nervously.

"Probably, but he didn't seem to know last time. I didn't exactly ask Voldemort about it, but if he was angry when Dumbledore destroyed it, I would have felt it that summer and I didn't," Harry pointed out. "We'll get the Sword from school and find out for ourselves, I guess.

"The Snake the Dark Lord has is also a part of his soul – a horcrux?" Draco said, processing the information he had absorbed in the past hour.

"Yes," Granger said, knowingly. "That's why he's able to posses it at will and control it."

There was a small gasp and when Draco turned around, Harry was looking pale as if about to faint. "What is it?" he asked, looking at him worriedly. Harry shook his head and stumbled to his feet. They all followed his example and scrambled off the bed and stood up as well

"Harry?" Granger said, in concern. "Ron, close the door," she ordered as he made to leave. "Or maybe you should call Remus."

"What's wrong," the Weasel asked stupidly. "Is it the scar?"

"It's not the scar, you pea brain," Draco snarled, going to Potter and hugging him from behind. If the scar had been hurting wouldn't boy have at least kept a hand over it? He was bothered by something Granger had said. The boys' shoulders were broader than Draco's and he rested his chin on it easily. He could feel the clammy sweat that had broken over him and smelled the fear. He gently kissed the nape of his neck and breathed into his ear (wishing the Weasel would not make retching sounds in the background). "You have to tell us."

"It's…" the boy was shaking under his arms. His friends were standing beside him, looking worried as if he was about to throw a fit. Draco wondered whether perhaps he should withdraw to a safe distance, just in case the next thing Potter blew up turned out to be him. "Volde…mort…" for the first time Harry's' voice faltered when saying that name and everyone looked worried. "Hermione said he could possess things that are parts of him…and last time in the Ministry of Magic …he possessed me."


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: If I owned any of this, I wouldn't be sharing it. Unfortunately, I don't own anything.

A/N –Betaed by Laura.

As for the reviews – People relax…breath. Did I put character death in the warnings anywhere? Perhaps a few minor once but not from the main pairing. Seriously, I'm not going to write a long story where the hero dies. I'm going to leave that to some other person, who like me write slash but wants an angst ending.

Secondly, is it mum or mom? When I tried to post this on Hex files I was kicked out…and told that in Britain it was Mom not Mum.

I know. I'm cruel with my characters but not overly so. Please, blame it on JKR who invented the lot. Plus, I promise it'll all work out in the end.

Now the ratings are going to be tested. Brace yourself.

P.S. If the chapter seems a little fluffy at times, believe me the characters are going to pay that back, in buckets of Angst.

Chapter 16:Physical contact.

"It's nothing," Draco said for the hundredth time kissing Harry's nape. "The Killing Curse failed to hurt you, so, some of Vol…Volde…Volde…morts power got transferred to you. That's probably why he was able to posses you."

"Maybe," Harry mumbled into the pillow, wanting to believe.

"Get real, Potter," Draco said in a forceful whisper. "If you were a horcrux, why do you think he spent your entire school career trying to kill you? Destroying you hardly seems the way to safeguard a part of the soul."

"Why happens when you transfer a part of your soul to a living person?" Harry wondered.

"Will you stop that," Draco said, running a finger nail down Harry's spine. "You didn't sneak into my bed so we could talk about something so depressing. Plus, we've being over this topic plenty of times."

"No," said Harry, trying to get himself comfortable. They were in Draco's bed (obvious choice since it was the furthest from Ron) spooned under the quilt, trying to take advantage of the dark. After all, the only time they seemed to have any privacy was when they were sleeping. Otherwise, someone would show up for the most inconvenient reason and try to disturb them …well, do disturb them and leave without, at least, an apology. He relaxed as Draco's' hands circled him and started to lift his t-shirt, while placing small kisses to the back of his neck. The two of them had a few rules, one of which included not marking each other in visible places. Bite marks on either of them would have given their relationship away to the adults, both were aware that no one was going to be pleased with the prospect.

"Turn around," urged Draco, as he pulled the t-shirt up. Harry sat up briefly to turn around and to get rid of his t-shirt, and found his boyfriend's lips accurately in the dark. The kiss was desperate, releasing all the built up frustration of the day.

They were both trying to forget the articles in the Daily Prophet about Scrimgeour getting worse every day, of the pointless Muggle killing and of the Half-blood family whose children had been disemboweled alive, while the parents watched…The war was upon them and as far as Harry knew, he might not survive it. Hiding in some dusty old house was not helping him.

"Potter," Draco said, in frustration. "Let go of those will you. I know you feel guilty for all those people who died, but at this rate, you're going to kill me from sheer frustration."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, as he tried to regain his lover's lips.

"Ok, let's try something different, shall we?" Draco asked, a little impatiently. Instantly Harry stiffened and tried to move away. It had been the same for them the past few days. Harry was fine as long as they kissed and touched each other above the belt but the moment he was about to be touched below, he would stiffen and pull away. As far as Harry could tell, unknown to him, he had a lot of Muggle born prejudice built into him that had to be dealt with.

"We should get some sleep," Harry protested, weakly. "We are going to St. Mungo in the afternoon, don't forget."

"How could I forget, with that annoying woman, badgering you?" Draco said impatiently. "Cast a silence spell, Potter, or we'll wake up the Weasel, who'll probably want to join us."

"I can imagine that," Harry said with a smile as he waved his hand in the dark and cast the silence spell without a wand. Draco was too distracted to note that his wand was on the night stand, next to the bed. "Mrs. Weasley was just worried about me. She wanted to know how far I could see. She wants me to be a best man at Bill's wedding and I suppose it is better if I could see."

"See," snorted Draco. "You can see a little can't you dear?" he said imitating Mrs. Weasley's harassed voice. After all, the mad household she was involved with was probably driving her up the wall. "How about this cup I'm holding, can you see what color it is? How about this? They say eating carrots can help your eyesight, may be you should eat a few more carrots. How about your glasses? Maybe you should change the prescription…Merlin, can she talk"

"She's concerned," Harry said, though he had to admit he was annoyed by the whole thing himself. Her concern over him was starting to become a nag. "Just be grateful she said it was alright for you to come with us to St. Mungo."

"I'm not sure if it's a good idea," Draco said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "I mean, if I leave the house my father might be able to find me." Harry got the impression that Draco was hiding something, but he did not say anything. They all had secrets and this was not the time to discuss your inner most fears.

"You left the house before," Harry pointed out, reminding Draco of the walk around the block. "Nothing came of it. But, if you want to keep the baby…"

"I don't…" Draco ground out, frustrated with the direction the conversation was heading.

"I wish you wouldn't," Harry said, knowing he was repeating himself, but unable to stop. "Like I said, I have a feeling I might not survive all this and before you ask why…there are a whole lot of people out to get me."

Draco started to protest at the beginning but stopped, knowing what Harry had said was somewhat true. There were a whole lot of people who wanted him dead. There also were a larger number of people who did not care whether Harry Potter survived the war, as long as he got rid of the Dark Lord. For someone like Harry, running away and living on an island was not an option. He had been a marked man by the time he was a year old.

"Like I asked before, doesn't this baby become a part of me since I provide the energy for you to keep on carrying him?" Harry continued.

"I was sick today, Potter," Draco said, reluctantly, not wanting to think about Harry's half-witted argument.

"But, you don't feel tired and …" Harry swallowed. "Just let him live, Draco."

"What are you," Draco snapped back angrily. "Speaker of the anti-abortionist movement in Britain? Potter, you are a dream come true for most people. You're rich; not that bad looking and you are the Boy-Who-Lived. On the top of it all, you're willing to accept a former enemy, who's carrying a bastard child, as a lover and keep the child as your own. You are a saint. But, I'm not keeping it. Now shut up, or go to Weaslette room and try to get her pregnant if you're that hung up over having a child before you die."

"That's sick," Harry said, wriggling away. "I don't want to have any child, just… yours, I suppose. And don't talk to me about going to someone else's room; I'm not the one who was chummy with Bill the whole day."

"Potter," Draco said. In the dark, Harry could imagine him laughing. "Are you jealous?"

"Am I?" Harry considered. And to his surprise, he discovered he was. True, Bill was straight and about to get married to a pretty girl. But, the thought of Draco sitting in a corner chatting to the guy, who despite the long scars running down his face managed to look both dangerous and handsome, made Harry's blood boil. While Mrs. Weasley tried to gauge how much of his sight had returned, Harry had being distracted by how cozy the two of them had seemed.

"A little," Harry admitted, reluctantly. "What were you talking about?"

"Nothing really," Draco said, evasively. "Mostly his job and stuff. I was interested in his clothes, if you must know."

Harry found it believable. After all Draco was very fashion conscious. But something still nagged him…

"Potter, we're going to grow old this way," Draco said, breaking his line of thought, and Harry relaxed.

"What have you in mind?" he asked, curious and a little excited.

Draco kissed him and Harry promptly kissed him back. He knew the next day his lips were going to be bruised, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, but at the moment he didn't care. Draco kissed roughly; his teeth nibbled his lower lip, sucked his tongue and mauled his neck. A trail of kisses started from his jaw, down his neck until finally those teeth latched on to his collar bone. Harry groaned at the sensation, his neck arching back as the ministrations on his body continued. His nipples hardened as skilled teeth teased them in to hard nubs, continuing down his waist.

He arched upwards, using the heels of his feet as leverage as Draco lapped at his navel before continuing down. He was hard underneath the plain cotton shots, wet with pre-cum from his hard, leaking cock. Harry bit his lower lip and whimpered as Draco ignored his shorts and instead, made his way down towards his legs.

"Draco," he said, unable to help himself.

"Questions, Potter?" Draco teased him lightly.

"You fly as much as I do," Harry panted as a warm mouth engulfed his…big toe! "Why is it that I've got calluses and your hands are so" the mouth was moving up, a tiny bite to the inner ankle, past his calf "bloody" his inner calf was passed over until the teeth started to nibble his inner knee "smooth."

Draco did not answer, his mouth being busy. He continued up the inner thigh, this time biting slightly harder, eliciting a gasp from Harry. He wasn't sure he liked the sensation. It tickled him a bit, not much, but the over all feeling wasn't unpleasant. Perhaps, talking about hands was not a good thing in the middle of foreplay, Harry thought.

"Lift," Draco said, looking up, his hands resting on the waist band of the shorts. Harry lifted his hips off the bed before he could think straight. He was turned on, hard and leaking slightly, and his erection tented the shorts nicely. One of the reasons he had never bothered with underwear much, apart from a couple of boxers, back at school (unless he was flying) was because he was never bothered with annoying things, like being turned on at the most inappropriate times. Other boys had commented how they had to charm their underwear so their erections wouldn't be obvious in class, in case McGonagall thought it was for her, but for Harry, nothing seemed to turn him on.

Even during his infatuation with Cho, he was morel likely to spill juice down the front of his shirt or trip over his shoelaces in her presence, than get a hard-on. But with Draco, the effect was immediate. All he had to do was touch him under the table, and the next thing he knew, he was hard. He gasped as his shorts slid off his hips and cold air touched his hot member. He was sure that by now they were both breathing hard, and that the room wasn't all that dark as to hide their actions completely. There were a few streetlights filtering in from the dirty windows and, once his eyes got used to the dark, he could make out their silhouettes quiet well. Harry was sure that should Ron open his eyes he was bound to see them, and that added to the excitement.

It was not that he got off by displaying in public, but rather they did not have much choice. Mrs. Weasley seemed to swoop out of the woodwork at the most inappropriate time. He doubted she would be pleased if he was caught with his hand down Draco's wais band. His thoughts were interrupted when Draco gently cupped his balls.

"Malfoy," Harry gasped, half sitting up. It was new, no one; apart from him had ever touched him there. There had been a time when Ginny had tried, but her finger nails had been too long. He had cringed at the thought. "What are you doing?"

"Potter," Draco replied, putting emphasis on the name. "Relax."

Harry flopped back on to the bed, feeling slightly vulnerable, since the other boy was still fully dressed while he was left with his shorts around his ankles, feeling rather embarrassed, with a massive erection. Draco leaned forward and nuzzled his pubic hair, inhaling as he did so as Harry's erection rubbed against his cheek. He turned his head slightly, while letting his thumb brush the underside of his cock. Harry gasped, but did not move. The thumb moved up gently then, the tip of his cock was engulfed in something warm and wet. Draco's mouth!

Harry gasped again, more in pleasure this time, as Draco's free hand curled around the base of his cock and the other clamped down on his hip, holding him down. Harry did not even ask what Draco was up to, when his lips moved downwards, engulfing his cock completely. The feeling was exquisite. Draco's tongue swirled around him as Harry tried hard not to buck up. As it was, he felt the hard palette of Draco's mouth, and then the head of his cock nudged against his soft palette, finally down his throat. Harry moaned in pleasure, wondering why he had held back for so long. He was moaning out curses as he tried to move against the hand holding his hip down. He did not care if he was going to choke Draco, he had to move. He tried to grasp a fist full of smooth blond hair to force the head down. Draco, reading his intentions, let his teeth graze the sensitive flesh. Harry, properly chastised, settled back down, mouthing curses and Draco's name in equal amounts, while trying hard not to scream. The silence spell was not going to hold steady for long.

He could feel the familiar tingling in the stomach, the tightening in his balls and he tried to warn Draco. "I'm …coming," he said, in a barely coherent gasp. He was not going to cum in Draco's mouth. That was sick.

Draco either did not hear, or preferred not to hear, since the next moment Harry was coming in his mouth. His world was full of stars exploding. He was sure he had screamed, only what, he did not know. Afterwards, Harry slumped back, boneless, while Draco crawled up to him, and kissed him hard, letting Harry taste his own cum.

Harry clumsily groped at Draco's shorts until he found his cock, hard and leaking, bent painfully in its confinement. He pulled it free and fisted it, wondering if he was doing the right thing, or whether Draco expected him to take it in his mouth. Harry was fascinated but, somehow, not quiet sure. He wasn't ready for that, yet. Then Draco was coming in his hand, spurting, on Harry's stomach and chest, breathing hard.

The two boys lay quietly for a while before they leaned in for a kiss, this time sated and sleepy. Harry knew he should clean up the mess, should go back to his own bed…but he was sleepy and there was a warm body next to him. He threw a hand around Draco and snuggled up to him, his head fitting under the pointed chin, like a piece in a jigsaw puzzle that had found the proper place, both falling asleep.

Someone was screaming obscenities in the background - in a female voice. Harry wished she would shut up and go back to sleep. After all, he was far too comfortable to get up, his body felt warm and relaxed and the warm body next to him was warm and soft. He wanted to shift closer and just drift back to the warm safe place he was; only hands were shaking him and forcing him to surface.

"What," he said irritably, opening his eyes and wincing as sunlight made him duck back under the covers. It was morning, late morning by the looks of it and he had overslept. He sighed, shifting closer to Draco – Draco as in the guy who had given him an amazing blow job that night and still in bed with. Harry sat up hurriedly, looking at who ever was shouting at them.

"You'd better wake up, Harry," Draco said sleepily, sitting up as well. He sat up slowly, stretched and squinted into the light.

"I can't believe it, the two of you," Hermione was ranting as Harry reached for his glasses. "Harry, tell me you're wearing something under the sheets."

Suddenly, Harry was hit by the whole situation. The fact that he was naked under the sheets, with another boy. He could feel a flush work up his chest, up his neck and onto his cheeks. He wanted to cover his head with the sheet and hide until everyone had gone away. Ron was staring at him too, his mouth open in disbelief, sitting on his own bed.

"Granger, shut up," Draco said, getting out of bed and letting them see, that at least he was wearing a pair of cotton shorts. He had managed to pull them back in place before falling asleep the previous night. "And unless you get off by seeing naked bodies, other than your boyfriend, I suggest you leave the room and let us dress."

"But, tell me you didn't have sex with him," Hermione said, urgently. "Harry, how could you. You…you…God, why don't you take a bath. The two of you smell like a pig sty and Ron, not a word from you." She made to leave, but then turned around. "How could you, on freshly washed sheets at that. Do you know the trouble the house-elves have to go through to wash them and you behave like a couple of animals…?"

"Hermione," Harry said, feeling miffed. He'd just had a wonderful night and she had to show up and ruin it with her ranting. He flipped away the cover, letting her see that he was naked underneath. "If you have anything to say, we'll meet you in your room as soon as we've washed and dressed."

For once, Hermione was speechless; blushing furiously she left the room.

They took longer than usual to get ready. It started with the brilliant idea, to shower together. Harry had been enthusiastic about the idea, but once in the bathroom, under the harsh light (lamp shades were yet to grace the inner rooms) he was strangely shy at the thought of removing his clothes. Draco was also standing there, holding the towel in front of him, awkwardly, as if unwilling to relinquish the last item of clothing.

"This is ridiculous," Harry said, letting his shorts drop and standing straight. He knew he was not going to win any awards for beauty, but he was not mutated. He was shorter than Draco, but his shoulders were broader. His hips were narrow, the rest of his body trim from hard work and Quidditch. "After all, you've had my cock in your mouth. How bad can this get?"

"Uum," Draco mumbled, still holding on to his towel. "Look, Potter, maybe this isn't the best of ideas. Shall we just…"

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, sensing that something was amiss.

"Nothing," said Draco, avoiding his eyes.

"Draco?"

"Nothing. Perhaps we should you know…"

"What is it?"

"Nothing, Potter, if you want, I'll wait outside until you've finished and then…"

"Draco?"

"Well, are you going to leave or should I?"

"Draco?"

"Fine, I guess I'll leave…"

"DRACO!"

"Oh, fine, Potter," Draco said warily and tossed down the towel, exposing himself. "There, say something."

"What," Harry said, puzzled. Draco was slim, not thin, practically hairless, apart from his curling pubic hair with a fine golden line down the middle. His arms seemed longer than Harry's, but also well muscled and toned. His cock was limp, hanging between his legs, looking about as dejected as his owner. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Ilookfat," mumbled the confidant Slytherin, looking anything but that.

"You …fat?" said Harry with a laugh. "Are you trying to prove something?"

"No," wailed Draco, one hand over his lower midriff. "I'm putting on weight, because of this…parasite I have inside of me."

"You…" Harry stepped forward and ran a hand lightly down the blonds' midriff. It was sloping slightly and well, not as flat as it had been originally, but not quite fat. "You think that's fat? Wait till you see my uncle and cousin."

"Yes, still…" there was something utterly wretched about seeing Draco without his self confidence. Suddenly Harry was on him, his lips attached to him firmly and they were kissing. Harry was fierce in his kissing, letting his palms run up and down the smooth body, trying to make Draco understand that he didn't care whether his boyfriend was perfect or not. He didn't care. He had what he wanted and that was fine.

Afterwards they both stumbled into the shower, still attached by the lips, when Draco broke free with a shaky smile. "There's a spell, you know," he said slightly breathless. "To get rid of calluses and stuff. When you asked last night, I wasn't in any position to answer your questions."

It was Harry's turn to feel shy, looking at his hands rough and calloused, with hard ridges on them. "Do you think I should…" he wondered, thinking that a Malfoy would probably never like working hands on them.

"You idiot," Draco said, affectionately. "I like the way you are. When they slide over me, the friction it creates…" there was no need to continue, as they stared at each other wordlessly, before resuming their original position. It was quite sometime before either of them was ready for breakfast.

"Why don't you go down," Harry said pecking Draco on the lips. It felt more natural than it had before. "I have to talk to Hermione and Ron, alone."

"You'll come down, won't you?" Draco asked, worried. "You won't talk to them and change your mind about me, will you?"

In return, Harry smiled and showed Draco his hand. "See those scars," he said. Draco squinted at them, then nodded. "Well, can you read them? Remember all the detention I used to collect from Umbridge back in fifth year. There, I had to write lines with a pen that used my own blood. And still, I wouldn't lie because I believed in what I said. So if you think my friends can be vicious, you are mistaken." Draco looked semi-convinced, but nodded, just the same. Harry knew that they were late for breakfast and by now the blond must be very hungry. After all, he was eating for two as Hermione had pointed out, though personally he thought Draco ate enough to support an entire Quidditch team after training.

He walked into the girls' bed room, fully expecting an explosion, but with the realization, that he really didn't care. Hermione was sitting there with a book open on her lap, looking impatient.

"There you are," she said in a tone which said she had suspected he'd done a runner.

"I got side tracked," Harry said, looking around and seen only Ron. Ginny was no where to be seen and he frowned. "Where's Ginny?"

"Went with mum to help decorate the Burrow for the Wedding," Ron explained. "I think the house is getting to her and I can't argue with that."

"Harry, did you…sleep with him," Hermione had been bursting to ask him that.

"Well, I did fall asleep with him, now that you mention it," Harry replied with a grin. "But we didn't have actual sex if that's what you mean…not that it's any of your business. I don't ask if you and Ron have sex."

"But Harry," Hermione strived, the make an argument that withstood the accusations. "Ron and I are your friends, but Malfoy is…"

"He's my friend," Harry said firmly. "And what I do with my sex life is none of your business." He looked at Ron, who was clearly staying out of the argument, for the sake of staying on the good side of Hermione.

"But you said you don't love him," Hermione tried. "How can you sleep with someone you don't love?"

"People do that all the time," Harry said. "And you were all right with the whole idea before."

"I thought it was because you were not allowed to do anything," Hermione confessed. "Thought it might be your way of rebelling and if we all used reverse psychology and pretended we all went with it, then you'd get fed up with the idea. Plus, I didn't think you'd do something that big so soon." She was blushing now and wouldn't specify what exactly she thought the two of them had done.

"That's nice," Harry snapped angrily. "With friends like you, I don't need Voldemort to kill me. You're doing a better job of it."

"Harry," Hermione gasped, offended. "That's not a nice thing to say."

"You might be my best friends but you don't have a right to tell me…"

"That's what best friends are for," Hermione tried again. "To point out to their friends if they are making a mistake…"

"Why don't the two of you just stop that," Ron said suddenly. "Why don't you tell him the real reason you burst in on us this morning."

"What's happened now?" Harry asked with a feeling of dread.

"Nothing big, really," Hermione said in disgust, abandoning her topic for the sake of picking up another. "I just got an owl from an old friend of ours. Harry, I think you might know her, she's called Rita Skeeter."

"What does she want?" Harry started to worry. There was lot of bad blood between them and there was no way she was writing to Hermione for fun.

"She doesn't want anything," Hermione said, fiercely. "She just wanted to let me know she had finally registered herself as an Animugus and now she's Fudge's Personal Press Handler."

"That's bad isn't it," Harry said, though he couldn't think of how bad.

"You should figure it out yourself," Hermione said, standing up. "I'm going down now for breakfast. You should come too, but Harry, I should tell you, Professor Snape is here."

"What does he want," Harry mumbled. The day was getting better by the minute.

"Nothing," Hermione said. "He came to drop off certain Order material for Remus, but perhaps you should talk to him about resuming your lessons. Maybe if you convince him that you want to learn Occulmency, then he'd let you attend the Order meetings." With that she was gone, leaving the two boys in the room alone.

"Don't mind her," Ron said, apologetically. "She's in a bad mood since she got that letter in the morning. She wasn't exactly nice to Rita when she was a beetle and now 'Mione is afraid that woman might pay her back for that."

"But that does not give her right to…" started Harry.

"Whoa, mate," said Ron, holding up his palms. "Don't take it out on me; I'm not the one who said it. So…" he smiled "what did you two do?"

"What sort of a question is that?" Harry asked.

"You know," Ron said wriggling his eye brows. "You almost got laid. What's it like."

"You know, the same as you and Hermione, I guess," Harry said, blushing furiously.

"We haven't done anything mate," Ron protested. "What did you do?"

"Hesuckedmeoff," Harry said in a small voice.

"He did …"Ron practically jumped off the bed. "The ferret…"

"…Don't call him that."

"…sucked you off. Did he swallow?"

"Ron…"

"I know, but what did it feel like. You have to tell me, mate. It's not like I can ask Hermione to do me."

"Please, spare me the image."

"Aren't you going to tell me?"

"It's sort of personal," Harry said, going redder.

"How about a pensive, we can get a pensive and you can put that memory in and I can take a peek," Ron suggested, enthusiastically. "Was it nice…?" For the first time in his life there was something Ron was more interested in something other than going for breakfast.

"Oh, alright," said Harry, finally unable to stand the constant nagging by Hermione. "I'll ask him once and if he says anything rude, I'll just turn him down."

"Just once, Harry," pleased Hermione.

"Where is Snape anyway?" Ron asked, looking around the kitchen and then at Tonks who had accompanied them for breakfast.

"Went up with Remus to look at some books," Tonks said, still looking curiously at Draco who had been the first of the three to arrive at the breakfast table, still eating. "Should be in our bedroom."

Harry raised an eyebrow and mouthed "our bedroom" to Ron who shrugged. Who'd have thought the two f them were shagging. Maybe, Ron should go and ask questions from Remus.

"I'll go and ask them to come down," said Tonks, standing up. "God knows what's taking them that long."

"I'll come with you," Hermione said, also getting up. "There're few questions I need to ask Prof. Snape before Harry puts him in a foul mood."

"Hey," Harry protested weakly, knowing it was true. "Tell me, when's he ever in a good mood?"

After the two women had disappeared, Harry turned around to face Ron. "What's a two way bond, Ron? The one Draco accused Hermione of having with her house elf?"

"Oh, that," Ron said, looking slightly embarrassed, probably remembering what Draco had accused Hermione of that day. "It's a sort of bond where both parties feel what the other is feeling. Hermione thought it'd be nice to feel what a house - elf feels so she modified it a bit. She just feels it if …Winky is tired, over worked, or unhappy and stuff. Strong emotions only she said. But not…you know shagging. Do you think house-elves shag," Ron wondered at the end.

"But she gave Winky clothes," Harry said. "Wouldn't that make her free?"

"No, she gave Dobby clothes to give Winky," Ron explained. "Clothes given by one house-elf to another doesn't count."

"She has taken up knitting…"

"Out," there was a loud shout from upstairs. "Out I say and if you show your greasy face here again I…"

There was a loud bang as if a hex had been thrown. They all reached for their wands and Harry moved in front of Draco, who was weaponless. There was the sound of rustling robes and running feet. Snape appeared looking flushed and half dressed.

"I never want to see you ever again you…" came Tonks screaming, her hair changing from pink to green so fast it was apparent she had no idea she was doing it. "If I ever see you…"

"Nympha…" came Remus after those two, looking slightly flushed, his hair a mess, wearing one shoe and a black robe which was probably not his own.

"Why don't you shut up as well," Tonks screamed. "I can't believe it. The two f you…" she looked around at the three who were looking at her and burst into tears. "That's it," she said. "I don't want to see either of you when I come back," Then she ran up the stairs.

Snape gave the three of them a cursory glance before going towards the fireplace. Remus did not even pause before rushing behind him. They head the sound of the floo being activated. The silence which followed was unbelievable.

"What do you think happened?' asked Ron, mystified.

"I'll tell you what happened," Hermione said, coming down silently, looking shocked. "When we went upstairs, Tonks sort of walked into their bedroom without knocking and I saw…" she gulped. "I saw Prof. Snape and Remus…they were…"

"…shagging," Draco suggested.

"Close enough," Hermione said. "They were kissing."

"Eww," Ron said, making a gagging sound.

"You're joking," Harry managed.

"No I'm not," Hermione said. "And they were just groping under their robes and…" she trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"You know what this mean, right?" Draco said.

"The rumors about Remus and Sirius were true," guessed Harry.

"Snape is going to be Harry's godfather," guessed Ron.

"If we don't get Tonks out of the room, we don't have an escort to take us to St. Mungo this afternoon," said Hermione.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Change of heart.

Disclaimer: same as usual.

A/N: My dear Readers, I really do appreciate your reviews. Just because I don't answer them all personally doesn't mean I don't read them. I check my reviews everyday, at least a hundred times. I really do like what you have to say about the story and try to make adjustments accordingly.

This Chapter was unfortunately meant to be funny but came out some what lopsided. I want to get this over with so I can pay more attention to the next chapter. Betaed by laura.

Draco was staring at himself, with horror, in the Mirror. It was unacceptable, but apparently, it was the only way to get around the problem they were facing. Granger had finally decided, after numerous attempts to get his distressed cousin out of the bedroom that the four of them were to go to St. Mungo on their own. It was clear that Remus was not coming back anytime soon and Tonks was refusing to answer the trios concerned, (and somewhat irritated) 'are you all right?' and 'are you coming out now?' which left them without a supervisor.

Weasel had suggested that they floo call the Burrow and inform Mrs. Weasley about the mornings proceedings.

"What're we going to tell her," Harry had said. "Hey, guess what happened? Tonks caught Remus with his tongue down Snape's throat, and she's throwing a fit in her room. That's really going to help. She'll probably lose her job or something and knowing your mom, the first thing she'll try to do is get Remus kicked out for improper behavior or something. You know he's got nowhere else to go. If we give her time, she might come out by dinner, and no one would know."

"So what do you suggest we do?" Weasel asked.

"Go to St. Mungo, of course," Granger had replied. They were always covering up for each other, a disgusting trait, looked down upon in his house.

"How, by floo?" Harry had asked.

"And let everyone who's monitoring the floo know we're going to St. Mungo," said Draco.

"We just have to leave now and we'll be back before Molly comes back. That way no one will know about it and Draco really needs to be examined, anyway," Mudblood had said, as if he was faking his pregnancy. "We'll go muggle."

"Muggle," said Draco in horror. "You want me to travel in one of those buses!"

"No, you idiot," said Harry, affectionately. "We'll take a taxi. It'll cost a bit but its safe and we'll be back in no time."

"Good idea, Harry," Granger praised, as if it had been Potter's idea all alone. "Just one problem."

"What?" the Weasel asked.

"We can't go like this," she had explained. "Harry just needs to cover his scar and no one would know who he is, but Mal – Draco's hair is such a give away."

"So what do you suggest I do," Draco sneered. "Spell it black?"

"Exactly," said Granger, taking her wand out and throwing a spell at him, before any of them could react. Draco turned around to look at Potter, whose lips were twitching in an effort not to laugh and knew it was bad. "Not quite…right," mumbled Granger, looking pensive. "Something's missing. I know…" another swish of the wand and the Weasel had collapsed to the ground shrieking in laughter with Harry with him. Draco finally gave way to his instincts and ran to the bathroom, where he could study himself in the full length, non-magical mirror.

He wished he had never looked. Granger had given him RED HAIR and FRECKLES! He looked like a Weasley.

"Draco," came Potter's insistent knocking. "Open up. What is it with you and your cousin, locking yourselves in rooms?"

"Go away, Potter," Draco yelled. "I'm not coming out. You go have your fun. I'm staying here until the spell wears away."

"Oh, quit being such a drama queen," Potter said, with his amazing ability to put his foot in his mouth. "Do come out, it's not that bad."

"I look like the Weasel!" Draco yelled his eyes still on the image in the mirror. "And you tell me that's not bad!"

"It could be worse" Harry yelled back.

"How could it look worse?" Draco screamed.

"You could look like Snape" Harry told him.

"Merlin, help me! Let me die!" Draco pleaded

"Oh, Draco," said Potter, door springing open. Really, he didn't know why he bothered to close doors; everyone seemed to walk right in anyway. Potter walked right up to Draco and put a hand around him from behind so the two of them were spooned while standing. He could feel the length of Potter's body against his back and glared at the reflection of Potter in the mirror. "You look nothing like Ron, sweetheart," Potter said. "You nose is too long, your chin is too pointed and you are just too good looking. It's only temporary, you know. We do have to show you to a medi-witch just to be sure…"

Draco relented and came out, although it was the 'sweetheart' which convinced him, not the rest of the argument.

Though Draco held no real liking for Muggle transport, the taxi ride was a hundred times better than the Knight Bus and he did not complain. Sandwiched between Weasel and Potter, hands clenched on his lap, he felt nauseated because of the nervous excitement. He was anxious beyond expectation. He could imagine an invisible line starting from his stomach joining him to his father; the famous Malfoy blood bond that helped fathers keep track of their off springs. It also helped them to verify whether the child their wife or husband was carrying was their own.

The original plan had been for Lucius to apparate to Potter's location and carry him off, only Potter had to get spell damaged. An inconvenience, since the Ceremony called for a perfect specimen, as perfect as possible with no magical or otherwise ailment. And Draco knew that his father was too bothered to baby sit Potter until he recovered from the spell, so had let Potter be with his friends until that time.

Without Draco to inform Lucius of Potter's recovery, Voldemort right-hand-man would have no way of knowing whether the Sacrifice (Potter) had recovered or not. But knowing Lucius, he was not about to wait indefinitely until an owl arrived. That would mean, once Draco was out of the Fidelius Charm house, Lucius should have apparated to his side. To tell the truth, Draco wasn't sure if the Fidelius charm was enough to prevent a Malfoy from apparating to the side of his unborn child. After all, family blood was thicker than that of a Secret Keeper. Therefore, he had no idea what was keeping his father, only grateful for the delay. The day of his mother's funeral, he was sure of being apprehended by his father, but nothing materialized. Perhaps, his father had been busy with the funeral or the Dark Lord, or both that day. Now, if he could get rid of this parasite before Lucius decided to hone in, most of his problems would be over.

He looked up to realize that every one of his companions was staring at him; they had reached their destination and were waiting for him to get out of the Taxi. Granger gave him a sympathetic look. She probably assumed he was nervous of the coming ordeal.

"Draco," Harry's hesitant voice was a whisper in his right ear. "Are you all right?"

"Let's just get this over with," growled Draco and moved forward.

Draco had never been to St. Mungo. His family did not believe in using public health facilities; they had medi- wizards floo over to the Manor, exclusively for their needs. However, he was sure this was not the usual outlook at St. Mungo. There seemed to be far too many staff members and not enough patients. All of whom seem to be in a state of nervous excitement. Perhaps there was a dragon pox outbreak, which would really top up his day.

"Give me the appointment parchment," Harry said, holding out his hand to Granger. "I'll just go and talk to the receptionist."

Draco followed Po- Harry, (now that he had forgiven the git for laughing at him earlier) to the reception and watched the four-eyed idiot give the parchment to the haughty looking receptionist with one hand, while trying to cover his scar with the other. Which, of course, made it more obvious. The receptionist made a pass over the paper with her wand and then looked up with a bright smile which almost split her face in two.

"Ha…Harry Potter," she squeaked out in a high pitched voice. Disgusted, Draco looked away, leaving Potter to deal with his adoring fans. Apparently the parchment had had the name of the patient on it, magiked, so it would appear only to the relevant party. He could see Granger and Weasel standing a little way back, talking adamantly to one of the portraits of a medi-wizard, looking worried and agitated. The Mudblood had probably being diagnosed with an incurable disease, Draco thought, feeling pleased.

He returned his attention to Potter, when his wrist was taken in a firm grip and was pulled towards the receptionist. "Actually, the appointment is for my …friend," Potter said a little hesitantly. "We just made it under my name because…"

"I know…" said the dreamy eyes receptionist, leaning forward so her cleavage was visible to people down the hall. "…today is such a busy day and your friend probably just had to get an appointment." She made it sound as if he was constipated, not in need of a medi-witch. Potter seemed to be totally oblivious to the display of excess flesh, but the Weasel, looking over Granger's shoulder, tripped over his feet in his surprise.

"Ye..s," said Potter hesitantly, while Granger appeared at his side, bobbing up and down trying to say something to Potter, but unable to in front of the big-breasted female he was talking to.

"We are so busy today you know," the empty headed bimbo continued with another flash of her breasts while toying with the top of her robe. Really!

"You're busy?" Draco said stepping forward. "What do you mean you're busy? There are hardly any patients today." Unless she did a side serving of Strip Tease for the benefit of all patients.

"We're taking in special patients, only," the receptionist said, glaring at Draco. "You must be a Weasley." What! Oh, yes, the red hair. Draco nodded glumly, mentally shooting blots of Killing Curses at Granger, who looked amused. "What an honor, two special guests in one day." She didn't mean him did she?

"Special guests," said Potter, his eyes glued to the ample breasted woman's face as if everything she said was priceless. Draco was sure the boy would start drooling any minute. "Who else is here?"

"Why former Minister Fudge, of course," the receptionist gushed out. "He has come over here, personally to see how of Minister Scrimgeour is."

"Harry," said Granger, urgently. "That's what we've been trying to tell you. One of the portraits told me, Fudge is here, and he's with Rita Skeeter. If she catches sight of the two of you, it'll be all over the newspaper by tomorrow."

"Oh, great," groaned Draco.

"Really?" snarled the Weasel. "Thought you and her were great pals, back in fourth year."

"Shut up," Draco snarled back, while his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. Now was not the time to be sick or fighting. "Can we just get to the appointment area?" he added. It was unlikely that Fudge would be exploring every nook and cranny of St. Mungo. They might be able to escape detection, if they left the reception area before anyone else showed up.

Granger seemed to be thinking the same thing since she glared at the receptionist until she stopped trying to strip for Potter's benefit. She pulled out a small round ball with wings attached to it. She gave it a tap with her wand and said clearly "Room 34, appointment with Medi-witch Matilda Smith." The ball glowed slightly and the wings came to life, flapping extremely fast. "You just have to follow it to the appointment area," the receptionist said. "Don't forget to come back," she added, with a smile to Potter that could melt candles at a glance.

"The tramp," muttered Draco.

"Exactly," said Granger. Then the two of them looked at each other and shared a moment, knowing there were so many predators out there, intent on getting their men.

The four of them set a steady pace; following the flying ball Draco tried hard not to stare at the patients who were there. There was a young woman with large flaps instead of arms, who was making odd squeaky noises. A middle aged wizard in purple robes whose ears were emitting colorful bubbles. He was so intent in watching those around him that he did not see where he was going until the group came to an abrupt stop, and he ran full tilt in to the back of the Weasel.

"Ouch," he mumbled, rubbing his nose which had been hurt in the process. The Weasel had a back like a brick wall. "What did you stop for?"

"Fudge," hissed Harry.

"Why are we stopping for him?" Draco asked. "I thought the main aim was to avoid the idiot."

"We could, if he wasn't walking right at us," mumbled the Weasel through his teeth, pointing towards an offshoot corridor, from which they could hear the sound of multiple footsteps and the excited voices of officials. "We'll run into his group any second now."

"Oh, shit," said Harry, looking around the corridor for a place for them to hide.

"We can't hide," hissed Granger, looking agitated. "They'll be on us in a minute. We have no idea which corridor they're going to take"

"What do we do?" mourned the Weasel. "We can't let him catch us out here."

"Split up," said Draco looking for the flying ball, which had stopped. He saw that it was waiting for them to catch up.

"Right," said Potter, sarcastically. "How's that going to help us keep the appointment?"

"Good idea," said Granger. "We don't all have to go to the appointment. Here, Ron, pull up your collar and hunch a little."

"Wouldn't that make him look suspicious?" Harry asked.

"You moron," said Draco, with fondness. "She wants him to look suspicious so as to draw attention from us."

"Exactly," said Granger, also adopting a look of fake desperation. "We're going to run in front of Fudge's entourage, I know Rita Skeeter is there. She'll recognize me from the back of my arm, so they'll all come after us. While we distract them, try to get to your appointment."

"You sure about this…" Harry asked, looking worried.

"The most they can do is question them a bit," Draco said in exasperation. "It's not like they can be arrested for being in St. Mungo."

"All right," said the brunette, reluctant to let his friends go, but not having any other option. "Where will be meet, back at…the house?"

"How about the Tearoom on Fifth floor?" said the predictable Weasel. "After all, we missed lunch."

"You want me to what!" said Draco in shock, moving away from the tall, pretty looking medi-witch, who was probably middle aged but managed to look young and spry.

"Now, Mr. Weasely," she said in a stern voice. "Don't you think you're over reacting?"

It took Draco three seconds to realize that she was referring to HIM as Mr. Weasley. "No," he said, scrambling backwards. "You stay away from me, you perverted old hag."

"Dra…dear," said Harry, in what he must have thought was a soothing tone. "Don't you think you're going a little overboard?"

"She wants me to get naked, and then lie flat on a table," shouted Draco. Didn't these people understand what was being implied?

"There's no need to act as if you haven't done that before," said the medi-witch who looked more amused than insulted. "I'm sure the two of you must have done something in that line in order for you to get pregnant."

Damn Potter for going to the medi-witch and implying that he was the father of Draco's baby. All right, so he had been a little tongue tied and not very inclined to explain to the woman his problem. But that did not mean Potter had to step in front and stumble through an explanation which made it sound as if he was responsible for Draco's condition. Perhaps it hadn't been exactly Potter's fault. After all, the appointment had been for Harry Potter and when he turned out to be the one in need of medical attention, the woman had put two and two together and come up with 'Harry Potter has gotten his boyfriend, a Weasley, pregnant and has come in for a check up.'

"A little too young, won't you say, for the two of you to come to such a decision?" she had asked.

"Erm," Potter had said, looking like a half wit.

"But then again, if you're in love, why wait," she had said, happily. "After all, both of you are of age."

"Yes," said Potter, and much to his chagrin, Draco found he did not have anything to say at all. This was getting ridiculous.

"Can we get this over with?" Draco had snapped, irritated.

"Now, if you can tell me the potion you took," said the medi- witch, sitting down by the examining table and looking at him with a half smile on her lips.

"Erm," said Potter. "What did you take?" he had asked from Draco.

It was Draco's turn to look blank. He had no idea what his father had given him. "I…we…." he stuttered.

"Not to worry," the medi-witch said. "All young couples seem to do that. Just go in to some Apothecary and order whatever they think is needed. And whoever is at the counter just gives them some potion and hope it works. You have no idea the number of people who have given birth to…" she shuddered, noting the rather pale looks on both of them had stopped. "But I'm sure you're just fine dear," she'd said, patting Draco on the back. "Let me try to figure out the potion you've used. Just answer a few simple questions and we'll be on our way."

Draco had thought it would be an easy task but it turned out to be otherwise. He did not have female organs (that rules out the transvestite potion and the androgynous potion), he did not have multiple nipples ( some form of wolf / dog potion – a good thing he didn't take that because people gave birth to litters after using it) and nor did he have breast growing or otherwise. No, he did not have …no not that …, no…the child was NOT conceived on scared grounds (even his father would not be stupid enough to count Malfoy Manor as sacred), blah, blah, blah.

Finally, the witch had put aside the note and smile at him, and asked him to undress which was what he was protesting against.

"Excuse us a moment," said Potter, gabbing his hand and dragging him behind the flimsy separation that served as the changing room. He cast a silence bubble over the two of them and looked at Draco with mild-amusement and irritation. "Ok," he said, keeping his arms crossed, probably thinking it made his displeasure obvious. "What is it now?"

"I can't take my clothes off for her," Draco had explained.

"Look, is it because you think you're going fat?" Potter asked. "She's a medi-witch, Draco and she knows you're pregnant, so, that's to be expected. After all you have to let her see you so she can…" grimace, probably involuntary "…get rid of the ba…it."

"It's not that," Draco hissed annoyed. "It's Granger," he tried to explain. "When she turned my hair color red, she turned all my hair red."

Potter, the delightful fool, looked blank.

"Potter, I have red hair everywhere," Draco said.

"Oh," finally there was understanding, followed by a mischievous smile. "Draco, do you have a problem with red pubic hair?"

"Just because Granger has a thing for it, doesn't mean I do," Draco grumbled, half-heartedly. Plus, it made his cock look pale.

Another ten minutes had passed and Draco still had to come up with a proper way of bringing up the topic of the abortion. The woman now thought the baby was Harry's to start off with, so mentioning abortion in the same line as 'The Chosen ones' baby, was probably going to earn him a stay at St. Mungo, courtesy of the medi-witch.

"Actually, we were wondering, if…" Draco tried to work out the proper way of saying 'get rid of it before it is born.' He blushed and tried again. "You know, it's just me who has this problem, but you see… the thing is …"

"Oh, that's all right dear," the medi- witch patted his shoulder, understandingly. "Young couples come here with that question all the time."

"They do," both Potter (who had understood what Draco was implying) and Draco asked in surprise.

"Oh, yes, especially in the case of the first baby, they're all new to this and what not…"

"First baby?" said Draco puzzled.

"But I can tell you, it's perfectly safe to have sex until the…" Potter managed to jump backwards and crash into a table where certain pamphlets were kept. "You know there are a whole lot of positions you can practice…" she handed Harry a pamphlet off the table and smiled, then turned her attention back to the spells she was casting.

He wasn't completely naked, but he would have been embarrassed had he been anyone other than a Malfoy. Imagine what women expecting kids put up with all the time! But at the end of the examination (physical) Draco had very little concept of privacy left. He watched the medi-witch cast a couple of spells over his midriff, and then smiled at both of them in a genial manner.

"Congratulations, you two, it's a girl," she announced.

"What," said Harry, staring at the bubble that was floating over Draco's middle.

"Your baby," the medi- witch explained, slowly, obviously used to dealing with less that mentally perfect individuals. "It's a girl…and that's her over here." The last part of the sentence was said, while gesturing towards the bubble which was slowly forming into a picture of, what Draco assumed to be, what was inside him.

"Now the potion you used seem to be one that slightly accelerated the pregnancy, not much but more that normal," she said in a voice which made Draco remember school …specifically McGonagall. "See, you can see her hands…"

Those waving things…

"…and there's her head and legs…"

Draco couldn't make anything out in the bundle of gray squiggles.

"Do you want to listen to her heartbeat?" the medi- witch offered and Potter nodded enthusiastically.

"Are you sure?" Draco finally found his voice. "That it's a girl?"

"Yes, dear," the woman replied in the same voice she had spoken to Potter, the one used for imbeciles.

"But…but…it's meant to be a boy," Draco just prevented himself from declaring 'my father said it was going to be a boy.'

"Really, dear," said the medi- witch. "These things are touch and go you know. Some of these home brewed potions are unpredictable, but not that it matters. She's a real nice girl and high on magical energy."

"But…" Draco tried again. "A girl…"

"Yes, dear," the medi- witch repeated herself. "No need to look shocked. Your mother was shocked when her last one turned out to be a girl too, but she was more …pleased."

His mother…oh, yes, he was a Weasley.

"We are happy," said Potter, nudging Draco. "It's a girl!" he repeated dreamily, looking at the bubble with doe eyes. You'd think Potter was sappy enough without cooing over soon to be dead, unborn kid of former enemy.

Draco had had enough so he gathered the white wrap around him and slid off the table. He was about to go to the changing stall to change clothes when the medi-witch stopped him. "I know some people want their first born to be a boy, hell, most pure bloods do, but your child is going to be fine." She clearly misunderstood his confusion as disappointment. "I usually tell mothers to be that their child is going to look just like their mother but in your case…" she continued to speak, but Draco hurriedly shook free of her grip and rushed into the changing cubicle.

He drew his clothes on with shaking hands, trying hard not to think. But he couldn't help it. He knew the kid was going to have blond hair. His father had blond hair and he was only temporarily a red head. And what if the kid also had grey eyes – grey eyes and blond hair, and female …like his mother. What if the kid looked like his mother and he … couldn't …wasn't keeping it.

He slipped his foot into his shoe and was hopping about half-heartedly trying to find the other when the curtain was wrenched apart and Potter came into view, still holding the pamphlet in one hand. "We've got to go," he said, breathing heavily. "Fudge and his group are on their way here."

"But I haven't…" Draco protested.

"No time," Harry said, grabbing his upper arm and the two of them hurried away to the fifth floor to meet the rest of their group.

"You mean you spend an entire hour in there without coming to the …main topic?" Granger's voice was starting to get on him nerve.

"Well, he tried, but she sort of thought we wanted to know if it was safe to have sex," Potter managed to put in.

"How could you possibly get the two topics mixed up," Granger's confusion seemed genuine. "It's not as if you said, 'is it safe to have sex after an abortion?'

"What did she say about the sex part?" the Weasel, depraved one asked.

"She gave me a pamphlet," Potter said, waving the collection of leaflets he had in his fist under the Weasel's freckled nose.

"Let's see," the Weasel said with enthusiasm and grabbed it off Potter. He flipped it open and gasped. "Look, Harry, they've got all the positions acted out in…"

"What did she say?" Granger asked, once the two boys' attention was taken in by the pamphlet.

"It's a girl," Draco blurted out without thinking.

"Oh," said Granger, at a loss. "Did you see it?"

"Yes." The whole thing, legs, arms, oversized head.

"It's harder now, isn't it?" she said shrewdly. "When you've actually seen the baby and know it's not a tumor inside of you."

Draco did not reply, but continued to look down at the table cloth. "Is that a sheep?" the Weasel was asking in a semi-hushed voice, used in sacred places.

"I own you an apology, you know," Granger said, softly and Draco looked up surprised.

"Wow, I didn't know sheep were that flexible," Potter said in an awed voice and Draco spared him a fond glance.

"An apology, Gran – Hermione?"

"About this morning," she said in a low voice. "I was a bit of a bitch, wasn't I?"

"That looks…uncomfortable," Potter said with a dubious look on his face, while the Weasel looked slightly green. Whatever they were looking at, Draco would bet his vault on, it would not be practiced in any sane bedroom. It was well known that the Gryffindors were adventurous in all aspects of life.

"You know Harry likes you," Hermione said softly, so that the two boys would not hear her. "He forms attachments pretty quickly. I really didn't think it wise for him to form an attachment with you when …look Malfoy…Draco…there's a possibility that you'll walk away from this unscathed in the end (highly unlikely from where he was sitting, not that he could say that aloud) and leave Harry behind. I can't let you hurt him."

"What changed your mind?" Draco asked; hand on his stomach, making soothing circles.

"The receptionist, if you must know," Granger admitted. "You were so possessive of Harry, there… when she was flirting with him. It was almost as if you…loved him."

Draco flinched, and then looked away. He needed Potter, that was it. He was not some over possessive, love struck idiot. "Shall we order some food?" he asked, desperate to change the topic.

"I think this guy in this picture look like Snape," the Wesley said. The four of them paused, remembering the morning's incident.

"I do wish Remus would choose," Harry said, morosely. "I mean, he can't keep Tonks and Snape…not both of them."

"I think he's already chosen," Granger said. "Tonks chased Snape from the house today, not Remus. He chose to go with Snape rather than stay and make up with Tonks, so that must count as something."

"So are we ordering food or what?" the Weasel demanded, ignoring the sensitive (good gossip – information) topic the other two were talking about.

"Sure," Potter said. "Draco, what're you having?"

"Ice cream," he said promptly. "Chocolate chip."

"For lunch," Potter managed to ask in surprise.

"Why not," Draco said with a shrug, though he was just a surprise. Chocolate was not even his favorite flavor.

"Oh, it's coz he's pregnant," the Weasel said dismissively. "You ought to hear dad talk about what mom used to eat while she was expecting all of us."

"Do you want to make another appointment," Potter asked, hesitantly. "To come back, so you can...you know…"

Draco could feel Granger looking at him intently and felt his stomach cramp. He thought of the small gray/ white glob moving slightly, looking nothing like a child, living inside him and put a hand over his middle. Could he?

"We can come tomorrow," Potter offered.

"We can't," Draco said desperately. He needed time to think. This was all happening too fast. "You're going to the Club tomorrow."

"That's in the evening," Potter protested. "We can come in the morning."

"Oh, no Harry," Granger said. "You're going to get ready. This time you're going to be presentable for a change. Plus, a few dancing lessons won't hurt as well."

"Must I," Potter looked stricken while the Weasel went to bring their food and Draco gave her a grateful glance.

"Don't you worry," Granger said, nudging Draco on the arm in a friendly manner. "Maybe, we can name her after your mother."

Draco tried to think of something to say, such as 'I'm not keeping her', though all he could do was think of his mother, dying in the arms of a stranger, all alone. He shivered. He felt as if cold figures had crept up his spine and squeezed him inside. Perhaps, he would just put the naming business on hold for a while.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: If I make a profit out of this, I'll send it to JKR immediately.

Beted by Laura 

A/N- Airlady- thank you very much.

PPl it's not that I don't answer all the reviews personally, I'm not always on the net. Have limited time so just post my chapters as fast as I can.

Clumsy Thestral –thank you for reviewing almost every chap. As for chap 8, wait, it's going to be explained.

Chapter 18: The night out – Part I: Mixed Doubles.

"Stay still, Potter," Draco said, in a firm voice, as he tried to wrestle down the unruly dark hair that had a mind of its' own.

"It's not going to work," Harry told him confidently. "I know my hair."

"Oh, good," said blond said in a sarcastic voice. "Your hair is just as stubborn as the rest of you. Why don't we shave you bald and see if we can order a dark wig instead?"

"Don't you dare," Harry said, hoping that his boyfriend was teasing him, not really entertaining the idea. You could never tell with a Malfoy.

"Scared, Potter?" there was a definite teasing tone in his voice.

"Very," Harry answered truthfully, standing up to study himself in the mirror. The clothes he was wearing had been chosen for him by the Weasley twins and Ginny, a gift for funding their Shop. When it had become known that the three of them were buying the evening wear for Harry, Draco had thrown a minor fit and claimed that anything they would choose would probably not be fit to be worn by house elves. (The twins probably regretted telling Harry to be nice to Draco by then, though they'd kept their mouths shut.)

Harry had also being worried about what they were going to bring for him to wear. He hoped it would not be some terrible dress robe, like the one Ron had worn for the Yule ball or, something from their practical joke collection. However, his worrying proved to be needless, when the clothes appeared and even Draco seemed to be mollified, though he had declared that he could have made a better job of it. The twins had chosen Muggle-wear over robes, presenting Harry with dark, body hugging trousers and a green shirt which looked black from some angles. The pants hugged his legs lovingly and the silk shirt helped to show off his toned body every time he moved. Draco had finally convinced Harry leave the top three buttons open and taught Hermione (the most competent of the lot, in his opinion) to cast a spell that drew a silver snake tattoo on his chest. The spell also helped to add silver highlights to Harry's hair, which was spiked and combed back.

"There," said Draco looking at his creation with a pleased smile. "Now, everyone will know you're mine."

"Then shouldn't the tattoo be of a dragon?" Harry wondered, fingering it gently. The snake opened an eye, hissed irritably and moved to a more comfortable position.

"Draco also stands for snake," Draco said with a smile. "Stop trying to pull down your hair."

"But…" said Harry, and then stopped. The main idea was for people to know he was Harry Potter, so his famous scar had to be on display. It was the first time he was deliberately flaunting it and it made him self-conscious. "It feels odd," he mumbled.

"You look hot," Draco whispered in his ear, causing him to shiver pleasantly.

Harry looked over his shoulder to make some comment, when his lips were captured in a savage kiss. He swung around, just as Draco pushed him against the mirror, and continued to kiss him, pressing himself against the other boy completely.

They broke off breathlessly as Harry felt his body respond to the treatment. "Forget the Club," Harry said as he breathed heavily onto Draco's neck. "Let's just stay here and make out until Mrs. Weasley comes back."

"You really know how to turn off a guy, don't you," Draco said accusingly, as he forced a thigh between Harry's legs so that Harry was rubbing against him. "You just mentioned make out and Mrs. Weasley in one sentence.'

"I'd hate to see you turned on if this is you turned off," said Harry pressing them together and gasping at the contact. "This is…" he continued to rock forward trying to create enough friction "…one of the…" rock, gasp "…worst ideas…"

"Potter, you idiot," said Draco, pushed himself off the smaller boy. "I just dressed you. You are not going to cum in your pants now, before you've even left the house."

"You want me to cum after I leave the house?" said Harry trying to bring the other boy closer. "I'm going with Hermione, for crying out aloud."

"You have to go you know," said Draco, dancing away gracefully. He smiled in a winning manner. "Tell you what, you come back as soon as possible, and we'll finish this off."

"I want to finish this off now," said Harry gesturing towards his pants which were tenting agreeably in the front. It was tighter than anything he had ever worn and the fine material made his condition obvious.

"Too bad," said Draco with a smirk. "Think of something nice, like the Werewolf and Snape together. It'll keep you down."

"Not working," said Harry, his eyes fixed on Draco's tempting mouth. "You're here just beyond my reach…" he leapt forward to try and catch the blond who jumped back with a shake of his head.

"How did you manage to catch the snitch?" teased Draco moving backwards. Keeping his eyes on Harry, he started to remove his top, a green Weasley sweater which used to belong to Harry.

"What…what are you doing?" Harry gasped out as the other boy stood out of reach, naked from waist up.

"Giving you something to remember me by," said Draco running a hand up his chest suggestively, stopping to pinch a nipple before continuing down. "I've seen Granger dressed up and for a buck toothed Muggle, she cleans up pretty nicely."

"Draco…" said Harry taking a step forward.

"No!" said Draco sharply. "You stay there Potter, or I swear you'll regret it."

"What're you going to do?" Harry smiled and took another step forward.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," said Draco tensely, his brow scrunched up in concentration as he waved his right hand in Harry's direction.

To his surprise, Harry felt a gentle push, almost as if he was walking against a strong wind. He looked up, eye brows raised questioningly. "You can do wandless magic?"

"All powerful wizards can do wandless magic," his boyfriend told him, casually. "With the right training, of course," he added with a smirk. "My father's much better at this, I can only do only so much," he said, frowning in concentration again and Harry was pushed towards the wall. He decided not to fight the flow but let himself be guided up to the wall and landed on the pile of growing laundry in the corner. He tried to stand up when his hands were forced on either side of him and fixed to the wall. The binding felt loose and Harry was sure he could pull his hands free without much trouble, but for the moment he was willing to see where this was leading.

"You wanted me to sit on dirty clothes?" he said with amusement.

"I missed," Draco admitted looking slightly embarrassed. "I wanted to fix you to the chair."

"So you can have your wicked way with me?"

"No," now the smile was more confidant. "So you can watch me…" the hand trailed down the pale chest, stopping occasionally "…do this …" came to rest on the top button of his trousers.

"Uhu."

"Really, Potter," one finger from his free hand came up to his mouth, and Harry watched with fascination, as a pink tongue emerged to lick the tip delicately before retreating. The wet finger traced a slow, lazy circle around an equally pink nipple which hardened, before it was pinched between a thumb and index finger.

"Draco…" Harry almost moaned, knowing that the other boy was teasing him.

"Hush, Potter," Draco said half sitting on the edge of the bed, his right hand still resting on the waist band of his trousers. He brought down the other hand to join it, gently teasing it open, button by button, occasionally stopping to fondle the growing bulge at the front of his pants. Finally the trouser came apart and his erection sprang free, fighting the confinement imposed by his underwear.

"Hermione might be ready by now," Harry improvised wildly, knowing that he was in for a show and wanted to bring the torture to a stop.

"Is that the best you can do?" his tormentor said as he eased himself out of the green underwear. "She's a female; obviously she's going to take time getting ready." Long pale fingers fondled the heavy sac underneath his erection; he then began to stroke himself in earnest.

"Draco…" Harry moaned, trying to push himself off the pile of clothes that had mysteriously gotten tangled around his ankles. "You …"

A faint flush spread over the blonde's face and Harry knew that he was close. He watched with enthrallment as the fingers rubbed the pre-come over his erection, before continuing with his ministrations.

Something inside him snapped. Harry tore his hands from the bindings. With shaking hands, he pulled his zipper down and freed his own throbbing erection.

"Don't you dare come on yourself," the voice, though meant to sound stern came shaky, as the blond spread his legs further for the impending explosion.

Harry wasn't even aware of his actions as he fumbled for a piece of clothing from the pile of dirty laundry he was sitting on, and pulled out something without even looking at him. He was only aware of the growing tightness inside of him and the gasps emitted from his lover that were getting louder and more frequent. He felt a rush of blood, the tingling that started from the base of his spine, making his toes curl and back arch up as he came into the folds of the material in his hand. Draco was close behind, his hips thrusting up, and with a loud exclamation, splattered his trousers that had been pushed down to his knees, and left a trail of white splotches along the floor, leading up to the bed.

Harry leaned back in to the wall, his eyes closed, breathing hard, trying to pull himself together so he could stand up on steady feet. He heard the sound of Draco standing up, pulling up his trousers and them muttering in disgust. "Oi, Potter, think you can spell this mess away?" and when Harry pried his eyes open he was staring at Draco, pointing at the white spots on his trouser as if it was Hippogriff droppings.

"Sure," said Harry, who managed to pull his wand out and remembered a simple cleaning spell. He was sure that at that moment, he wouldn't have been able to mange anything more complex. "You want to explain to me what you just did."

"I …" the blond jumped to his feet and reached Harry in three wide steps. "…did that..." two strong hands under each armpit and he was lifted to his feet easily "…so that…" Harry was pinned to the wall in an instant while the blond fell to his feet, his knees cushioned by the dirty laundry as his nose nuzzled Harry's limp cock "…you will not look at anyone…" his slacks were wrenched down and teeth closed on his hip bone, sharp and insistent "…during your night away from me." Harry realized that it was the first time they were going to be apart since their relationship had started.

"Draco, are you worried I might see someone else?" Harry inquired amused.

"Remember this Potter," the voice was fierce. "You…" bite "…are…" bite "…mine."

Harry's hip was literally covered with bite marks. He smiled, feeling pleased. He liked this possessive Draco very much.

"Of course, I am," he said, laughter punctuating his voice. "How am I going to explain those marks to anyone?"

"Well then," said Draco, looking slightly embarrassed that he had gotten so emotional. He stood up, still holding onto Harry and tucked him back in and zipped up his pants. "You might not have to explain that to anyone, but you'll have to explain to your friend why you came on his underwear."

"What!" said Harry startled. He looked down, blushing wildly, wondering if he could think of a proper explanation. The clothes he had wiped his cum on happened to be a bright orange pair of boxers belonging to, none other, than Ron.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Ron Weasley stood at the bottom of the staircase, his mouth hanging open, trying to form a coherent sentence as his girlfriend glided down, looking like a vision from Wizards' Weekly Fantasies.

"So," she said, stopping just short of the last step, looking hesitant as if unable to decipher his expression. "What do you think?"

"Uhu," Ron managed to say.

"Nicely said, Wea - Ron," Ferret Face said at that moment, stepping forward and holding out a hand. "You look gorgeous, Hermione." Ron growled at the compliment and the way her face lit up. And she did look gorgeous in her tight sheath of a red dress. It looked decent from the front with a high neck line which clung to her …chest emphasizing her …err…chest. However, the dress plunged down at the back stopping just short of her tailbone and left no room for any underwear. It was positively indecent! The only reason she could move at all was because of a slit in the dress which exposed her right leg up to mid-thigh and made it obvious she was wearing gold heels with delicate straps that ran up her leg crossing each other occasionally, and disappeared from view. The whole effect was finished off with a strand of gold around her neck, a small rose bud for each ear and a gold purse. The effect was simply breathtaking….and very…open.

For the special occasion, she had also managed to change her hair into something suitable, so that in the end, it was coiled neatly on the top of her head, in what Ron considered to be an elegant manner, leaving a couple of free strands, skillfully arranged to look accidental.

"Well, did I do well or not?" asked Ginny appearing at the top, looking pleased. She had helped Hermione dress.

"Brilliant," said Harry, who had come down a couple of minutes earlier, looking flushed and guilty as if he had just shagged. Ron wasn't blind, just a little slow is catching up. "Herm, you look beautiful."

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "You look nice too, Harry." And Ron had to admit that his best friend did look …hot. The colors suited him, the snake on his chest made him look dangerous and the hair with those spikes…Ron was straight as guys could get but even he had to admit that his friend looked very, very handsome… and he was going out with his girlfriend.

He cast a side way glance at Ferret Face, who had his guard down now that everyone was focused on the two important people, and saw the jealousy flare up, as Harry took Hermione in his hand and turned expectantly towards the front door as the bell rang. It had to be the twins arriving on time to pick up the two love birds for their hot date.

Ginny bound down the staircase and opened the door before any of them and let in the twins, who were dressed in their dragon hide suits.

"Don't let Charlie catch you in those," Ginny said with a smile. "Next, he'll be recommending dragons wear human hide boots."

"Only if he catches us," said Fred, with a wink. He turned to look at the two and whistled appreciatively. "Both of you look great," he said. George mirrored his look of appreciation as Ron bristled. True, he was not exactly the best looking guy around but he was sure with the right clothes, even he could look good. And were his brothers ogling at his girlfriend?

"Will you be ok?" George asked, looking at Ginny. Ron wondered why the question was not addressed to him.

"Of course, I'll be fine" said Ginny rolling her eyes. "Mom's furious with Tonks for deserting her post and Remus is sulking in the attic. I think I'll try to animate some of the elf heads on the wall until mom comes back from the Burrow."

"You can floo over to the Burrow, if you want," Ron offered, knowing that his sister had still not gotten over Harry's coming out with the Ferret. Ron had thought over the situation, long and hard and came to the conclusion that if his best friend was going to change sides, he might as well pick someone outside the family. It would not have been nice had Harry dropped Ginny in place of Charlie, but the Ferret was the last person on his list of whom-to-date-if-you-wake-up-gay. But still, Ron knew that Harry always picked the worst of the lot to date…like that Cho female who did not even know how to pick a proper Quidditch team.

"Nah," said Ginny casually. "I'll see if I can persuade Tonks to come out of her room. May be she and I can start a "Society for Girls who were dumped by their boyfriends for Slytherin Scum" Although Harry and Draco were yet to come out, (not that Ron thought the relationship between them the lasting kind,) the fiasco with Remus-Snape-Tonks was known all over the Order. The result being, Remus was hiding in the attic and Snape had disappeared under whichever rock he had crawled out of.

"Yes... well," Ron watched Harry wince at Ginny's comment and tried to smile at her half-heartedly. "I…we'd better get going."

"I suppose this is the first date where you have to be home in time for dinner," Fred said with a scowl. Ron agreed with everyone else that his mothers tended to be over protective The less she knew the better. So he and the others kept the secret, waiting until she had left for the Burrow, to be with Bill, since it was full moon. Which brought up another question:

"Remus," he said. "He's up in the attic and tonight's a full moon. Will he be all right?"

"I think Snape came that day to drop off the Wolfbane potion, not feel him up," Ferret replied smoothly. "I thought the potion makes him safe."

"It does," Harry replied hurriedly. "He just curls up and goes to sleep until sun up, or so he says. Anyway, I don't think he'll be running around tearing people to pieces."

"You have a way with words, Harry," Ferret muttered and Ron secretly agreed with him.

Ron tried to say something to Mione, about her dress, about the way Harry steadied her on her heels by placing a hand on her bare back…how dare she flaunt herself in public dressed like that?…A sharp elbow in his side stopped him before he could open his mouth and he looked down towards Ginny…

"Don't you dare," she hissed. "Tell her she looks beautiful, tell her she looks nice, and don't say anything about her dress other than that."

"But," Ron protested. "I thought this was supposed to be for show, only. Why does she have to dress like a common slut?"

"Don't you dare say anything," Ginny ground out. "She's never dressed like that before and I had a whale of a time trying to convince her that she looks nice in it. One word from you will have her running back to the bedroom."

"She should," Ron said stubbornly. "A dress like that shouldn't be seen in public." How dare she go on as a date with someone else dressed like that when he was left alone at home?

"Bye, then," said Hermione giving him a peck on the cheek after looking at him expectantly for a while and then the four of them were gone, leaving the three remaining teenagers alone in the house.

"They're gone," said Ginny with a smile. "I guess you'll have to get ready now."

"Get ready?" said Ron sounding surprised. "For what?"

"You seriously think I'm going to let my boyfriend walk out with your girlfriend on a date?" the Ferret said with amusement. "The clothes are on your bed. Come on, let's get ready."

"Wait a minute," said Ron in surprise. "We're following them to…wherever they're going?"

"Of course, we are," said the Ferret with a sneer. "The twins agreed to that."

"But they…Harry and Mione… don't know."

"No," the grin was malicious. "This way we can see if they're cheating on us."

"Funny," fumed Ron. "But the clothes…"

"I asked Bill for some. For a brother of yours, he's got extremely good taste in fashion…"

"He agreed…"Ron was surprised. "What about Ginny?"

"I'll be fine," she said, looking a little turned out. "I mean, I won't be in any trouble but this is boring."

"There's a lot we need to talk about…" said Ron looking at the blond who was smirking. "We need to get certain things cleared out…It's couple's night there for Merlin's sake."

"Exactly," the irritating blond smirked at him. "They didn't specify which sort of couples."

"I'm…I'm…" Ron balked at the idea. This was not good. He was supposed to pretend to be going out with the blond git?

"Sure," the blond said. "We'll talk while you help me dress."

"Help you dress!" Ron balked at the idea.

"Why, would you rather your sister help me?"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"We're here," said one of the twins. Harry looked around, confused at the run down building in a corner of Knockturn Alley, but from long experience he knew better than to underestimate a magical building by its' outward appearance. He waited, while one of the twins knocked on the door until a small panel slid back to reveal a pair of eyes.

"Yes," came the terse reply. The twin, who had knocked, shoved a piece of parchment inside and the four settled for a five minute wait, during which they were joined by another couple of Wizards. Like them, they were covered from head to toe in black, bulky cloaks which made it difficult to identify if they were male or female.

The stood in a semi-circle; Harry near Hermione, his hand on his wand, each lost in his or her own world, unable to come up with small talk and unwilling to bring up any serious matters in conversation in case it was overheard.

Finally, there was a sound of deadbolts being drawn and the door swung open, inwards in to a dark passage way. One of the twins stepped in, while the other waited for Harry and Hermione, before entering the passage way and closing the door behind him. They were instantly engulfed in the dark and Harry reached for his wand, feeling Hermione do the same.

"Not to worry," said one of the twins. "Just walk towards the light at the end of the passage."

"Isn't that some quote?" Hermione wondered aloud. "I'm sure I've heard that line before."

"Let's just go," said Harry reaching for her in the dark, and finding her wrist at the first go. Perhaps, his time spent being blind had some advantages. They walked into a surprisingly spacious lounge, with real potted plants, subdued lights and large sofas placed discreetly in each of the four corners.

"Masters Weasley and Weasley," said a hearty looking wizard who stepped out of another doorway leading outwards. He was not very tall, with sandy brown hair and equally dull eyes, chubby without being called fat. He was wearing an all black robe, expensive but without any form of decoration on it, as if deliberately dressed down so that the guest arriving would not feel oppressed.

"Good to see you," said the twin, while they took off their heavy cloaks. Two witches dressed in transparent, pale yellow robes with downcast eyes appeared out of the shadows and took Harry's and Hermione's cloaks, silently walking backwards, dissolved into the shadows. Under any other circumstance, Harry would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation, but all he could do was nod somberly and sit on the sofa.

"Would either of you care for a drink?" the wizard, who had greeted the twins, asked. Though his eyes lingered on the scar for a moment, he dismissed it with a shake of his head. Harry realized, for some reason or another, he did not like this man very much.

"No, thank you," answered Hermione for both of them, before sitting down next to Harry. Her wand was still half drawn, but she looked relaxed, if not a little perplexed. She was probably thinking the same thing Harry was thinking. Is this the Club?

"Well, then…" said the brown haired wizard. "The Masters Weasley and Weasley already know the procedure so I'll just inform the newcomers (made it sound like pre-grade students caught in a strip joint) of our rules. First, I must ask you to hand over your wands. Our Club guarantees that no one may be hexed or cursed within our premises. You will be searched for any magical item on your person… other than a simple Protection talisman or such. You may not hide wands on your person, as these will be discovered. You, the wand, or both will be ejected from this establishment. There will be no duels taking place inside the enclave. If any party should feel the need to duel, you will be ejected immediately."

"Secondly, all guests are …requested to take an anti-Polyjuice potion in order for you to gain entrance to the Club. This is to make sure that you are not masquerading as someone other than yourself." Was it his imagination or did the man stare pointedly at Harry for a moment as if waiting for him to admit something. "Lastly, this is a known fact to all our usual members but since you are new, let me state this clearly. The location of our Club changes daily and you will be Portkeyed to the new location. Should you be averse to traveling by Portkey, please let us know before hand so alternate means of transportation can be found for you. As a rule we do not use the floo network, but should you request for it specifically, it can be arranged. The Club is warded against apparition and should you attempt to do so, we will not be responsible for any bodily harm incurred." The man smiled at the end of his speech. "Any questions?"

"Will our wands be safe here?" Harry asked, and watched the wizard's face darken with something close to displeasure.

"I can assure you, sir," the man said, in a not-so-pleasant voice. "In our hundred and seventy three years of patronage, no one has ever lost or misplaced a wand. I must also tell you that handing over fake wands will not get you anywhere either."

"There's this interesting incident where this guy tried to smuggle in a wand hiding it in his…," started the twin, but the nameless-black-robed wizard cleared his throat pointedly and looked at Hermione.

"Might I suggest that, with a lady present, such a story be with held until a proper audience can be found," the man suggested as the girls who had previously taken their cloaks, emerged carrying four small glasses with an amber red liquid in it. They offered it to the twins, who were still standing, first, then Harry and finally Hermione.

Harry regarded it suspiciously while the twins downed theirs without a pause. "It's the anti-Polyjuice potion, Harry," Hermione informed him in a whisper. "It's supposed to last longer than the Polyjuice potion and you shouldn't take Polyjuice potion for up to two days after taking this."

"How does it taste?" Harry asked, then shrugged and gulped the contents of his glass down in go. It tasted warm and bitter, but not terribly so and he did not feel any of the after effects of drinking Polyjuice. He waited for a moment see if he was going to bring it back up, then relaxed as the bitterness faded into the background and a warm feeling settled in his middle.

"Not as bad as expected," Hermione said as she put her glass back on the waiting tray. A girl appeared instantly to take it.

"Why don't they use magic?" Harry asked in wonder. "They can do all this with a swish of the wand."

"But think of the patrons here, Harry," said Hermione. "They must have liked having serving girls dressed like slaves to serve them. This is suppose to be a very old establishment that's keeping its traditions."

"Aren't you going to protest at the treatment of the females here?' Harry half joked.

"Of course not," Hermione said, looking slightly displeased. "Anyone who's gong to degrade herself to the point of working here like a half-dressed slave girl deserves what she gets. Anyway, I've found out humans aren't as helpless as they look, they can form some sort of trade union and…" she paused, a gleam appearing in her eye. "I wonder if they've heard of trade unions, maybe I could…"

Before Hermione could start the mass revolution of the Working Witches for High Class Clubs (Why was it called a club when it was anything but one? Harry wondered. Does this place have a name?), another wizard entered the lounge along with the pair who had been waiting outside with them. They also had to wait until their credentials were examined. Harry watched the brown haired Wizard hold a smooth rod, about half a foot long, towards him and felt his wand vibrate slightly in respond. He jumped up, before he realized that this was what they used to search a person for magical items on their person.

"You see what happened to the guy who tried to smuggle in his wand," one of the twins leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "It made him so happy the rumor is the guy keeps on doing it."

"Really," said Hermione who had over heard the conversation, trying hard to look disapproving, although all she managed to look was amused. She pulled out her wand before the Wizard could search her for a wand and gave it to him. "Does this policy apply for everyone?" she asked the sandy haired wizard who had introduced them to the Club rules.

"Everyone," the man replied.

"Death Eaters and what included?" Harry blurted out.

"Yes." Though the man looked nothing like Snape, his tone and look made Harry think of long lost twin brothers.

"Even Voldemort," he asked finally, trying to see a crack in the man's plaster like face.

He actually blanched then hurriedly wiped his face clean. "Only you, Mr. Potter, would ever have the nerve to…"

"…call him by name," an equally prissy voice interrupted him as one of the newly arrived wizards pulled off his traveling cloak.

"Hello, Percy," said Hermione, the first to recover.

"Hermione," the Weasley, who was not a Weasley, answered. "Knew it was you the moment I saw you outside. Did you drop my brother by any chance, not that I think it a bad idea but your choice of replacement…" his one sneer made it obvious he thought Harry to be a highly dangerous criminal on the run.

"This is unexpected," one of the twins stepped forward.

"Don't get your hopes up," Percy snarled. "We have as much right as you to be here."

"Yes…but…"

"Gentlemen," the patron stepped in between the two redheads, "your Portkey is ready, now that you have been cleared for our Club. Would you please step this way or would you rather continue your…discussion…"

"We're done," said the other twin, placing a hand on his brothers' upper arm and boldly dragged him across towards the next room, with parting words towards Percy. "We'll see you inside."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Well, We…Ron," the Ferret said leaning against the door frame in a pose worth of Wizarding Wonders, "what do you think of my choice?"

"It's…all right," Ron said weakly, while thinking 'where did he get theses clothes from'. Ron was wearing deep midnight blue trousers matched with a gold shirt, finished off with a black, translucent cloak draped over his six foot something frame in a alluring manner. His hair was slicked back, almost like the Ferrets, but looked equally good on him.

"Is that all you can say?" the Ferret purred coming in to the room and stepping inside the circle of candle light …and Ron gasped. He saw for the first time, what Harry saw in the blond git. He was dressed from head to toe in white. With his pale complexion and white-blond hair he should have looked like a ghost; instead he looked like an angel. The white loose shirt was almost transparent, with long sleeves and a high neck collar. It showed off his chest, but hid the fact he was putting on weight around the middle. His trousers looked like white leather, outlining his long slim legs which were encased with white leather boots, up to the knee. (Were they too tight?) He also wore a cloak which was more like a silver cape which moved slightly, despite the lack of wind in the room. Unlike Ron, the Ferret had combed his long hair into a pony tail and left a few strands free as was usual. "So…" the blond did a full circle. "What do you think?"

"Are the trousers too tight?" Ron finally blurted out. "Harry will kill me if anything happens to the baby."

There was a long silence in which Ron realized that perhaps he should not have said that. "Fuck you, Weasel," the blond muttered angrily, storming out of the room, before Ron could figure out exactly what he should not have said.

"Wait, Mal…Draco," called out Ron, cursing his stupid tongue before hurrying out of the room, in order to catch up with the irritated blond. He could not go out with someone who was as temperamental as that. Maybe it was hormones or something. Didn't pregnant women get emotional? However, when he reached the hallway outside, he realized that the Ferret was standing still, while his sister was talking to him. Whatever the reason for the conversation, Ron did not feel like interrupting a private moment, so he stepped back in to the shadows. He was confident that they would not notice him straight off.

"You take care of him," Ginny said firmly.

"Your brother?" the smooth voice mocked.

"You know who I mean," Ginny said. "I mean Harry."

"Why would you care…?"

"You idiot," Ginny hissed at the blond. "I love him, don't you understand. I've loved him before I saw him and even more when I saw the little lost boy at the station. You don't know him like I do; you've never seen him…"

"Fine…whatever," the voice was bored and even though his back was turned to Ron, he could imagine a bored expression on the pointed face. "Cut the histrionics, Gina."

"It's Ginny," Ginny said, through gritted teeth. "My name is Ginny and I believe that after all this time with us, you should be able to call me by my name."

"Fine…then…" the blond stirred. Ron dived deeper into the shadows. "If that's all you've got to say…"

"Wait," said Ginny, pulling out something from her front jeans pocket. "I've something I thought you might like."

The blond took a step back as if he was scared or worried. Ron wondered if he should intervene before his sister was carted away to Azkaban for murder. Then she stood on the tip of her toes and fixed whatever it was on his neck. "Where…how…I thought…" the blond stuttered.

"I found it," Ginny replied, her voice smug. "Thought it goes with your coloring, seen that you seem to appreciate it more than I do."

"Thanks, Ginny." That actually sounded genuine.

"I'll take him back any day, you know," she said, before walking towards Ron. Ron wondered as to what had taken place, but when he looked at the blond for answers, all he could see was a familiar looking tear drop shaped pendant, mounted on an almost invisible thread, around his long slender neck.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Your boyfriend is hot, isn't he," the wizard said, smirking at Ron and Ron wondered for the fiftieth time as to why they could go to the Club through the same doorway Harry and the rest had used. Oh, yes, it was suppose to draw less of attention…

"He's not my…" Ron started.

"…boyfriend," the wizard finished as he took Ron's wand.

"Yes…he's my best friends' boyfriend."

"Thanks, Ron," the blond said dryly. "I really needed that."

"What…" Ron protested. "I couldn't lie."

"Now they think we're having some sort of under handed affair," the blond sniffed. "As if I'd ever go for the likes of you."

"Likewise," Ron snapped back.

"Ah," said the wizard, bringing forth vials of red stuff. "Young love. Bottoms up, guys. It's anti-Polyjuice, to make sure your blond treasure here is really what he looks like."

"Treasure…" spluttered Ron.

"His blond…" spluttered Malfoy.

"Yes, well, drink up…"

"Wait," said Ron remembering something. "Is this bad…you see…my…not boyfriend is …pregnant…"

"Thanks Weasel…"

"Shut up, Ferret…"

"Oh, pet names, how lovely," the wizard crooned. "Do you get all bestial in the bedroom?"

"I'll show you bestial…"

"Ma…Draco…" Ron said trying to control the situation.

"Pregnant is he?" the wizard said sounding interested. "How far alone is he?"

"Three months or so," Ron said, automatically remembering Harry's report from the medi-witch.

"Girl or boy?"

"Girl."

"Does he have a craving for anything?"

"Chocolate chip ice cream," Ron answered. "Why do you want to know that?"

"And he's not your boyfriend."

"He's not…" Ron insisted. "We live in the same house…I know all this because we share a room…oh, shit…I mean…"

"Yes…yes," the wizard patted his arm in a brotherly way, turning towards Mal…Draco. "Still in denial is he? Must be tough for you, love."

"You don't say," Draco said sarcastically.

"No, the baby isn't going to be hurt at all by the potion," the wizard answered at last, just as Ron was about to forget the original question. "Nor by Portkeying, though you might want to hold on to each other for balance. This way, Gentlemen."

A/N- the next chapter is going to consist of a slight non-con between Harry and someone he meets in the Club. I wanted to write it here in this chapter but I've hit my limit. You can guess who. Points for guessing who Percy came to the Club with as well.

Warning- don't go for root fillings…go for extractions.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N- for those who forgot- from the previous chapter, the necklace Ginny gives Draco is the one Harry gave her at the beginning of the story. She drops it during the attack at the Burrow and Draco keeps it with him. (Under the pillow perhaps, since he certainly doesn't wear it.) I thought having her take it from him and give it backs seems…er…odd? I'm not good with emotions…

I do reply the best I can. This is my plot so its' not perfect. There are loop holes and sometimes character act in certain ways so as to fit in to the story. I mean, if Draco was a real idiot or Harry as very, very straight none of this would have happened. So I bend JKR's characters once in a while to act out certain things.

Bated by Laura.

Cw- ok, that was damn good guess on your part. I can't let you on in the plot but ….thank you.

Clumsy Thestral- one : the staff of the club or whatever…it changes… the staff move with it. I thought it interesting that since Olivander moves with the club he would be extremely safe.

Two – as for Draco not freaking out, well, he went for a walk out side the house and to St. Mungo and his father didn't follow him. So, maybe he simply thought what the heck.

Grimm018- thank you

I originally wanted a club as in multi-roomed or whatever so that in one room you get an underwater subterranean cave and the other a cool restaurant sort of place. But as you can see, I ran out of space. The chapter was too long.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Warning :-slight non-con at the end. You are warned. 

Chapter 19: Night out – Part II: Like Father like Son

"Welcome to Nameless Paradise," a dark haired, slant eyed girl said softly as they entered the Main room. She was dressed in a smooth cream colored, silk kimono with small pink flowers on it, Her hair was held up by two large hair pins that made her look as if she had sprouted horns. "I'm…" she paused, eyeing Harry's scar and gave him a lopsided smile as if trying to regain her composure. "Harry Potter," she said in a dazed voice.

"Yes," said Harry, smiling self consciously. "In person."

"I'm Li Chang," she said, holding out her hand. "You knew my sister while she was at Hogwarts, Cho…Cho Chang."

"You're Cho's sister," Harry exclaimed, then cursed himself. Stating the obvious are you? small voice in his head, which sounded a lot like Draco, drawled. He looked at Hermione, who was glaring at the girl and remembered his manners. "This is Hermione Granger. She's also at Hogwarts."

"Really," the smile was a tad cooler. "Never heard of you. But never mind, Welcome…both of you. I'm your host tonight. Should you need anything, please let me know. Now about your reservations…"

"They're with us," one of the twins replied, as he swept away the two of them without waiting for a reply.

"Never knew Cho had a sister," Harry said, giving her a half smile over his shoulder as he was swept away.

"She was in Hufflepuff," Hermione growled. "Not something you'd admit if the rest of the family was in Ravenclaw."

"Harry," said the twins as they reached the end of the reception area, reaching a thick curtain which separated them from the inner domain. "Brace yourself," and with a flourish, drew back the curtains.

"Oh," said Hermione.

"Where are we?" Harry gasped, looking at the sight in front of him.

"Locations are never disclosed, but can't you guess?" one of the twins asked.

"Africa," Hermione guessed, moving forward. "India, somewhere near the tropics…"

"I don't care," said Harry softly, leaving Hermione to her guessing. .He moved forward until he had crossed the threshold completely. He had walked into some form of jungle paradise, by the looks of it. It was a setting out of a fairy tale, with the tall trees and over hanging canopies. Fairy light lanterns floated overhead, lighting the open area in clear pale white light. The weather was warm and dry. It was perfect for an outdoor dinner, so the management had taken full advantage of it to place tables outside. Each table was a comfortable distance from the other, each lighted by some form of magic.

The grass looked wet, but his shoes remained dry. Though there were a thousand night sounds made by insects, there was not a single one in sight. Light music floated from some undisclosed source and the air smelled faintly of flowers. There was a stream running right across the grounds. Harry watched with amazement as the fairy lights lit up silver fish as they leaped up from the water. Waiters in light green robes hovered attentively and discreetly on either side, some on the stream itself, which was charmed so as not to splash water on anyone else.

The whole open air setting was placed just a few feet away from a loft, where there were more tables floating in mid air. Harry gazed at the tables that were hovering, wondering just how much magic was needed to keep them in place and whether they were safe.

"Those are for the brave," one of the twins told him, following his gaze.

"Let's get a table there," Harry said, enthusiastically. "That is…" he added remembering Hermione "…if that's all right with you."

"As long as there's no one standing under us," Hermione said steadily. She was not a Gryffindor for nothing. "So…where's our reason for coming here?"

For a moment, Harry felt a pang of disappointment. He had forgotten that they had not come to enjoy themselves, but to save someone instead. He wished for a moment, that for once, he could relax and enjoy something without going out to save the world. Maybe, when all this was over, he could come here with Draco and enjoy the benefits of dressing up and going out, without having someone bent on killing you.

"He's over there," the twin Hermione had spoken to said, pointing out a tubby looking waiter who was walking towards them, wearing an amused expression on his face. "You know, this place has tighter security than the Ministry of magic. It shifts from day to day so the exact location is never known. Today, we're in India. ('I was right,' Hermione said) We got to know about it because we own stock here."

"Sirs," said Olivander who approached them with a smile. "And Madam, your table is over here."

"Actually," said one of the twins. "We were hoping for a floating table."

"Certainly, Mr. Weasley," the wand-maker said. "This way, please, follow me."

Despite Harry's request, he was a little worried as they stepped into thin air. He was faintly surprised when his feet landed on something akin to soft rubber. "Hey," he said with a smile. "This isn't half bad."

"Indeed not, Mr. Potter," Olivander said pulling out a chair for Hermione. "Would you care to look at today's menu?"

"Sure," said one of the twins.

"Here you go, Mr. Fred," Mr. Olivander said giving the menu to him. "Please, ring the bell on your table once you have made a decision. Until then, might I suggest a drink?"

"What ever you recommend," George replied. "Nothing alcoholic. We're going to need our wits about us today."

After Olivander had bowed as he walked off, the group relaxed. "This whole area is cordoned off, isn't it?" Hermione asked. "Like at the Quidditch world cup, with muggle repelling charms and all?"

"Better," said Fred. "We thought it would be safe to hide him here…"

"….especially when you own part of it," Harry guessed.

"That helped," George agreed. "We came up with some improvements for the security systems here. But the end point is…once the Ministry started interfering, it became too much trouble."

"Who are we to watch out for?" Harry asked.

"I take it Li Chang is one," Hermione guessed. "Her father's something at the ministry, so she must be working for him."

"Right," said Fred. "The next person is someone we all know." He pointed towards a tall black waiter who was carrying a tray full of tall, thin stemmed glasses.

"Kingsley Shakelbolt," Harry gasped. "He works here."

"No, he came here to get his hair done," Fred said, sarcastically, then abruptly smiled. "He's undercover."

"Who else?" Harry asked, but his question was ignored, as the Auror joined the twins. They were soon having some sort of conversation between the three of them.

"Feels like we're in Oz, doesn't it?" Hermione said, after poking Harry to get his attention.

"Yes, it does," said Harry looking up at the dark sky. "Mione, when they shift the place, how do they, you know, keep this sort of setting, over and over again? It might not be the same."

"Oh, no," said Hermione with a smile. "I looked this place up in one of the Wizarding tourist guides. It says that the tone of the place changes with the location. On some nights it's a Club, where you'd go to dance and on other nights, it's a strip club."

"What day is that?" Harry grinned.

"I'm not telling you," Hermione smiled back. "I have no idea what you and Ron might wind up doing."

"And what are all those curtains for?" Harry asked curiously, pointing out the curtains set around the tables. They reminded him a little of the Veil form the Ministry of Magic, because people seem to step into them and did not appear on the other side. It was equally disconcerting when the curtains blew open and waiters and official looking wizards stepped out, although no one could be seen on the other side.

"Oh," said Hermione, with a look of some one who had been suffering for a long, long time. "Harry, didn't you read the bottom of the menu for further instructions?"

"Does anyone read it?" Harry quipped back, but picked his up at a loss of anything else to do. He was informed in small print that the curtain color was an indication to the rooms they led into. Purple was for washrooms for males and dark pink for ladies, white for the kitchen area and so on. "Are there rooms for indoor stuff?" Harry asked, wondering what they would do if started to rain. "What if it rains?"

"Yes, plenty of room indoors, but we don't always go inside. There was a time we had a whole rain dance party," Fred interrupted having rejoined the conversation. "The entire thing was hosted in a topical downpour. You won't believe the number of people who come for such an event. Not to mention that Snow and Ice…" he drifted off as George finished off his conversation with Kinglsey, looking slightly agitated. "Trouble," he said.

Portkeying, whether to the back end of Knockturn Alley or to a high class restaurant in the midst of a tropical paradise felt the same, as if something or someone had put a hook right under your navel and given you a tug. Ron reeled from the effects of the long distance Portkey and managed to regain his balance by holding on to the closest solid thing, which happened to be the walls of the Portkey room.

Draco Malfoy was not that lucky. The solid object he clung onto was none other than Ron's shoulder. He opened his eyes, took in the excess of red and reeled back with an exclamation of disgust, only to be brought to a halt by the rise of his stomach contents into his mouth.

"Oh, Merlin," he moaned, turned around and threw up onto an expensive potted fern, brought all the way from a remote location of the world, by an adventurous Wizard who had sacrificed three figures in his left arm to a multi - pincered crab in order to obtain it. The plant turned an unhealthy shade of puce and flopped down with a muted groan, which probably reflected the horror in the face of the Wizard who was standing in the Portkeying room.

"You'll have to tell us when you want to leave so we can prepare a Portkey for you," he said, his eyes fixed on the plant. "There are anti-apparation wards set over the entire site and Portkeying is only possible through this room."

"Thank you," Ron muttered, took a hold of a green looking Malfoy by the hand and dragged him through to the next room through the beaded curtain that separated the two. "I thought you could Portkey without side effects."

"Tell that to…" Draco broke off; rubbing his middle discreetly before stopping his actions when he realized Ron was staring at him. Some instinct, perhaps pride made Draco stop and look at the stricken wizard. "I'll pay for the plant," he offered.

"Well, actually…" the man, looking slightly brighter, started to answer but for the first time saw who he was speaking to. The look on his face was almost comical, changing from annoyed to frightened, in the space of a heartbeat. "Mr. Malfoy," he managed to squeak. "There'll be no need. We are only happy to oblige…"

"By providing me expensive potted plants to throw up on," Draco said with an amused look on his face, all traces of previous sickness gone.

"Anything," the man said with a grimace that was meant to be a smile and tried to come up with something else to say.

"Let's go," Ron said, afraid the man might offer them another potted plant to throw up on.

"So," said Draco, looking around as if unimpressed. "What the heck was wrong with that guy?"

"He knows your father," said Ron, thoughtfully.

"So," said Draco casually. "This is an expensive, exclusive place. It would be odd if my father wasn't a regular customer here."

"You and your ego could go on a date on its own," Ron muttered. "So, we have to come back here if we are to leave."

"It's not as if we can apparate out," Draco pointed out.

"Well, I don't have my license, in any case," Ron said glumly.

"You don't need a license to apparate," Draco told him with patience. "You see Harry doing it all the time without being caught. The main reason the Ministry gives you a license is to keep track of you. Not just to get help if you get splinched. Can you imagine what would happen if wizards simple apparate to muggle shops or banks at night and walk out with the money. When you have a license, the Ministry knows where you are at exactly what time so it basically keeps you in check."

"So...I don't need to get my license," Ron said thoughtfully. "I could just apparate."

"Can you?" Draco asked. "I heard that you failed your test because you left some vital part of you behind when you apparated." The leer on his face made it apparent the vital part he was referring to was not Ron's brain.

Ron spluttered indignantly. "I left an eyebrow behind," he said angrily. "Now get your mind out of the chamber pot, we are suppose to provide a back-up distraction."

"Got any ideas?" Draco asked, taking in the surroundings and trying to look unimpressed. They had just walked past a blank face Chang and an equally stunned waiter.

"I don't suppose you could pretend to go into labor," Ron asked, a smile hovering on his lips.

Draco looked horrified. "You've got a better chance of that with Granger with a pillow stuck up her dress," he snarled, red splotches appearing on his cheeks. Clearly, the comment had embarrassed him for some reason. "Look, we'll discuss this the moment I rinse the taste of lunch out of my mouth. Now excuse me." With that he swept away through a purple billowing curtain on the side, which had a prudent figure of a male wizard holding his robed together bunched up between his legs, in one corner.

Draco stormed into the washroom and stopped. The entire washroom was designed to resemble a sea beach, with coconut trees, sand mounds, odd sand castles and sea shells. A rather large sea shell served as a sink with the upper lid a gleaming mirror and he was sure that the rest of the facilities were hidden in the midst of small fronds. The sounds of waves breaking on distant rocks were prominent and he could even smell the sea. The walls were tiled with sea creatures. Small sea plants moved occasionally as they did underwater and occasionally a fish would swim by under his nose, making him snort.

Remembering his original reason for being there, he opened the sink and collected some water from the sink into his palm, hoping it would not be salt water. Sometimes, certain illusions went a tad too far. He took a mouthful of water and washed his mouth and spat it out, his head bend over the sink. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, getting ready to face the Weasel, the world and everything in general out there…when he felt two warm hands warp around his waist.

"Putting on a little weight around the middle, aren't you?" the voice drawled, the sneer obvious.

Draco carefully raised his head and opened his eyes, so they would meet with the person on the mirror. "Flint," he said slowly, greeting the former Slytherin Quidditch Captain.

"Draco," the voice was sugary sweet. "It used to be Marcus before."

"Before, as in a long time ago," he said placing a hand on either wrist and moving the large man's hands apart. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing, you didn't do before," the eyes were feral. "White suits you but what exactly are you trying to pull? That you're a virgin?" the taunt was obvious.

For a moment Draco paused, his mouth was tightening, with memories of Quidditch matches, showers and sweaty locker rooms mingling with large hands, harsh breathing and painful positions as he was bent over changing room benches.

"Who exactly are you with today?" Draco asked, turning around and giving the large man a push. Surprise flickered in the man's eyes as he staggered back. He had not expected Draco to be that strong.

"Someone who's here for strictly business reasons," the man said angrily. "Who are you with?"

"None of your business," Draco snarled angrily, fighting the urge to wipe his middle where the large, brutish hands had stroked him. He had an odd feeling that the baby did not like the idea of someone, so disgusting, had placed his hands over him. "You don't seem that surprised to see me here today," he probed.

"I assume you're here for the same reason we all are," Marcus said coolly, holding out his hand and pushing back the sleeve so Draco could see the Dark Mark on his inner forearm. Oh shit, when had Marcus gotten marked? Draco knew what was expected of him, so he inched back his own and showed his incomplete Dark Mark, cringing inwardly. "Not yet one of us," Marcus drawled confidently. His smile would have been scary, if it had not been for a star fish that fell on his head from the ceiling, before disappearing promptly.

"Your date for the night…" Draco stopped as a clown fish swam in front of him. "What do you want?"

"We're all here for the same reason," Marcus drawled moving closer. "I suppose he must have at least told you of today's plan?"

"He," prompted Draco mystified.

"Your father, of course," Marcus said, smiling softly. "Though my date for the night was a lovely lady I found lurking outside minus a date. Said her name was …"

"Rita Skeeter, independent reporter and …" this while looking at Hermione, "...registered animagus."

"You invited her!" Hermione said in an outraged whisper to Fred, who looked equally shocked.

"No I didn't," he said. "She must have been the one with Percy. He said he had watchdogs on all entrances. Must have owled Fudge with the news as soon as he saw you and she must have been standing by."

"Now, now," said Rita in a sickly, sweet voice. Her employment to Fudge seemed to have paid off. Her hair was back in its elegant form and her lipstick was blood red. Her cloths were and expensive mix of Muggle and wizard, which seemed to be in favor as the latest in fashion and her jewelry looked like real gold. "I hope you won't mind my quick quote quill…"

"Actually," said Harry wondering how she had managed to get that through the magical object finder. "I'd rather…"

"Are you presently dating Miss Hermione Granger who happened to be formerly dating your best friend?"

"No…we're…"

"How is your standing with your friend Ronald Weasley?" Rita pressed.

"We're getting on well," Harry said.

"Are you two close?"

"Ye…s," said Harry warily hoping to find a loop hole in the question.

"Did you think having one pure blood male friend and one muggle born female friend would help you compensate for the loss of your parents, who were a pure blood and muggle born couple?" she was back to her original question.

"No," Harry snapped. "I…"

"Is it true you are no longer in a relationship with the youngest Weasley?"

"What sort of a…"

"What sort of a relationship do you think you have with the Dark Lord?" Rita asked changing topics as if trying to throw his over board.

"He's Tom, I'm Harry, all we need is a dick in the middle," Harry snapped angrily.

"So you admit wanting a sexual relationship with the Dark Lord?"

"NO! That's just a muggle phrase…"

"But he's a man. Is there anything you would like to…?"

"You put words in my mouth anyway," Harry snapped angrily. "Why bother now?"

"But you have to admit you haven't had a successful love life…"

"I've had enough of this," Harry said getting up. "Excuse me." Before any of them could react he had ducked through a white curtained doorway close-by and gasped as he bumped into someone he knew.

"My father," Draco gasped. "You mean…" he stopped himself from asking 'he's here', knowing that his ignorance would play against him. He was trying to come up with a proper from of phrasing his question when the curtain billowed inwards and a familiar red-head, in gold and blue stepped in.

"Hey Draco, you all right?" Ron asked, looking slightly worried. "You've been here for ages now."

"So…" said Marcus looking amused at the arrival of Ron. "Another addition to our ranks from a familiar house."

"What…" Ron paused, taking in the situation, of two boys standing in a washroom with their left forearms bared. "This isn't what I would usual compare with another guy but…" he said wondering whether he should turn tail and run. He just might have brought with him, Death Eater in training, Draco Malfoy, to a perfect getaway place for all he knew.

"So you're with this one are you?' Marcus inquired, strangely unafraid, though he had been caught with his Dark Mark, declaring himself a Death Eater. Probably because the red head seemed to be at ease with Draco, who was also sporting a Dark Mark. "Which one is he…ah…the youngest male Weasley isn't he…the one with Potter."

"I'm not with him," snarled Ron, totally oblivious to Draco's silent attempts to shut him up before he gave the game away.

"But I can assure you, Draco here is a very memorable shag," Marcus smiled slightly. "Wouldn't you say so, Draco?"

"I can't believe it," said Ron, outraged for the benefit of Harry who was currently involved with the blond. "Of all the people, you had to …so that's how you stayed on in the Quidditch team."

"Shut up," growled Draco, a flush spreading over his pale face. "It's not what you think. It was a long time ago."

"So the Weasel has feelings for you," Marcus guessed, misinterpreting the conversation.

"The only feelings I have for him is because he's going out with…" Ron started to correct the mistake.

"Shut up," Draco yelled, afraid Ron would let out the fact he was involved with Harry Potter, of all people now, and not as loyal to the pureblood cause as he was supposed to be. "He doesn't need to know that."

"Oh," said Ron, looking at the still exposed dark marks and came to a couple of conclusions. One, Draco was still on their side or whatever side he considered Harry to be, while Marcus Flint was not. Two, this made Marcus their enemy. "You mean you're still with us?" Ron stupidly voiced his question.

Marcus Flint might not have been the brightest student in school and probably one of the very few who had to repeat a year because he failed all his NEWT subjects, had survived in Slytherin and become the Quidditch captain because he was cunning. And he realized a few things. Namely, Draco Malfoy was not on his side. He had no idea which side he was on, probably an independent side, because he could not imagine a Malfoy going over to the opposite side any more that the Dark Lord giving Dumbledore a blow job. This meant, he had blundered into a situation where he was outnumbered and had exposed himself as a Death Eater.

"Oh, shit," he mouthed and reached for his wand, only to come to a halt when he realized that he did not have it with him.

"Now you've done it," Draco said in anger, as Flint made a break for the doorway. "Catch him before he gets away…or he'll tell my father we're here."

Ron was slow on the uptake as usual and watched as the larger man dived for the doorway faster than it was thought possible for someone that size. Draco rolled his eyes at the absurdity of the situation and jumped towards the man, his cloak flying behind him as he tackled Marcus before he could reach his destination.

Ron sprang into action as both Slytherins went sliding on the ground, Draco coming to a halt at the bottom of a sand pile and Marcus by hitting his back on a toilet fitting, hidden behind a sand castle. He grabbed Draco by the upper arm and pulled him up, desperately hoping that no one outside would have heard the commotion.

"Knock him out, Weasley," Draco snarled, pushing back a strand of stray hair that had invaded his eye. "Just don't let him go away."

"Knock him out with what?" Ron asked slightly stunned. Like most wizards, for him most fights began and ended with the swish of his wand.

"I don't know, you dolt," Draco snarled, moving back towards the wall away from the other two. "Use the sink or something."

"You've got to be kidding me," Ron said, giving the sink an experimental tug. "This thing's fixed to the wall and it weights a ton." He hurriedly looked around, as Marcus got to his feet angrily. He shook himself so sand fell off his clothes like small silver motes, and then once again tried to make a break for the door. This time Ron intercepted the former Beater and pushed him away from the door. "Aren't you going to help me?" he asked the blond.

"Isn't it enough I stopped him once?" Draco snapped back, adjusting his clothes. "It's not as if you expect me to do all the hard work."

"Fine," said Ron, taking an experimental swing at Marcus, which connected for the simple reason Marcus was also a pureblood wizard who had never fought a fist fight. His fist connected with Flint's jaw, snapped his head back and made him bite his tongue.

"Fuck," snarled Marcus angrily spitting out a glob of blood and saliva. He turned around and grabbed Ron by the collar of his shirt. He then proceeded to slam the red-head into the sea shell sink, which shook but held under the weight of the two boys, as Ron also clung on to Marcus, refusing let go.

"For Merlin's' sake Weasley, use some of your body weight," instructed Draco from the side line. "Let go of his neck, this isn't a ballroom dance."

"Easy for you to…" Ron stopped as Flint slammed his head against Ron's nose. "Ouch," howled Ron letting go of the bulkier man, who though as tall as he was, was built more in the lines of Goyle, and grabbed his nose with both hands.

"Oh, quit being such a drama queen," Draco said moving back away from the two. "It's not bleeding, don't think it's broken. Trip him over or something."

"Fine," snarled Ron, outraged at the abuse his nose was subjected to, dived at the large man and they both fell onto the sandy beach with muted smacks. They both rolled over and over again, crushing smaller sea shells and themselves until, Marcus, the strong of the two got a proper hold of Ron. He flipped Ron over so he was crushed by the bulk over him then proceeded to strangle him.

Ron could feel the massive hands cutting off his air supply as they closed over his throat. He tried to pry them away, struggling uselessly against the bulk. He tried to bring his legs up, only to find out that they were trapped between the others'. He could feel his struggles growing weaker and weaker as he ran out of strength. Then suddenly the bulk on the top of him went limp and he could breathe.

Ron rolled the inert man off him and sat up. "About time you did some…" and trailed off as he looked in to the gray / silver eyes that were daring him to say something. "I…"

"What Weasel," said Draco as he turned around casually and deposited the object he was holding up on the ground. "Surprised?"

"I thought you would just sit in the sideline and give me instructions," Ron admitted brushing some sand off the shirt, which was still intact after all the physical activity.

"I don't think I should be roughing it for a while," Draco said casually, holding out a hand to Ron.

"Could have fooled me," said Ron taking the hand offered without commenting on the oddity of Draco Malfoy holding out a helping hand to someone he considered to be a blood traitor, and was not surprised when he was pulled to his feet effortlessly. He remembered what his sister had told Harry when she had caught Draco eavesdropping outside their room "He's strong,' she had said and it was an understatement. To knock out Marcus Flint, Draco had causally picked up the heavy sink and slammed it down on the thick skull of the brute. A sink, Ron was sure, he could not have lifted unaided.

"Ah, Harry," said a calm, deep voice as he stormed in through the curtains and ran full tilt into the person on the other side.

"Kingsley," he said, relaxing a little at the sight of the Auror. "You startled me."

"How is your training going?" he asked gently. "I hope you have been practicing you Occulmency?"

"Actually, I've been a little busy," said Harry, feeling a little putdown. Surely, he didn't know this man very well, but the first thing he should have been asked might have been something other than about his training.

"But you are up to date on your new hexes?" the Auror inquired, persistently and Harry wished he was elsewhere.

"Ye…s," he answered hesitantly as loss of what to do.

"Good, good," the man said relaxing a little and leading him further into the room he had stepped in. Harry was in some form of kitchen / serving area where the order of certain tables kept on appearing on a small ledge. Harry remembered Hermione telling him that these people liked the idea of being served by real people rather than house-elves, a tradition which had started in the olden days when pure-blood families had discovered it was harder to find good wizards to wait on them than house-elves. The room was unimpressive, a simple white tiled affair, smaller than a walk in broom closet, clean and unremarkable. Apparently the magic that kept the place looking like a fantasy tour did nothing to spice up the inner rooms which the guests never visited.

"I was about to talk to you, so good you came in," the Auror said pulling out his wand and conjuring up a chairs for both of them to sit.

"You have your wand with you," Harry gasped.

"Of course," the black man said. "It wouldn't do for us to be without magic. All the staff here has wands. Otherwise, how do you think we have the Portkey ready when someone wants to leave?"

"So, you could have Portkeyed Olivander out anytime," he exclaimed angrily.

"Oh, no," Kingsley said sounding shocked. "Didn't they tell you? Only two people in the entire place have the right to the Portkeying room. We are not allowed anywhere near it. If you were to study my wand, you'll find out that I can only do the basic spells like levitation for carrying heavy trays, conjuring an extra chair for someone, a few cleaning spells and one or two simple 'reparo'." He sat on his chair; a straight backed one which looked about as uncomfortable as it felt and nodded to him. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about," he said.

"What is it?" Harry asked, wondering if he was about to be quizzed about his training again.

"Well, this is about a mission Dumbledore handed over to us to do before he died," he said.

"Us?" asked Harry, trying hard to look calm and steady.

"Me and Moody," Kingsley answered. "It was the tracing of a certain cup belonging to one of the Hogwarts Founders."

"And…" breathed out Harry.

"We found out that it was last seen in the possession of one Tom Riddle who was on his way to Hogwarts."

"You mean," Harry gasped. "The Hufflepuff Cup is back in Hogwarts."

"Seems that way," Kingsley replied. "We don't know where exactly…" he trailed off as the curtain flew open and Percy Weasley stepped in.

"What are you two talking about?" Percy asked, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

"So he's the one who put you on to me," Harry said acting quickly. He could not let Percy know that Kingsley was helping the Order "I told you before, I'm telling you now… I have no idea what you are talking about. I'll never become a poster boy for the Ministry…."

"How many times have I told you about questioning people without backup?" Percy snapped at Kingsley. The older man managed to look embarrassed. "I want to talk to you outside for a moment."

Kingsley got up and left abruptly, leaving Harry alone in the room with the two conjured chairs. He stood up, unable to sit in the hardback chair anymore and wondering whether he should leave or not. 'What if Kingsley had something more to say to him?' he wondered as he looked around. Perhaps there was more he should know, like what the unknown Horcrux was going to be.

He walked around the room, hoping that the Auror would return before he was missed by his companions, when someone entered the room. His back was turned to the entrance. He was completely unprepared for the feel of binding magic that overcame him. He was forcibly picked up and pinned to the wall in an instant. He was flipped over as magical binds appeared on his wrists and ankles, fixing him to the wall.

"What…who…" he gasped, looking up in surprise as his eyes met hard gray ones. "You!"

"Perhaps I should say surprise," the smooth voice smirked. "After all, that seems to be so."

"Bastard," Harry said, struggling in his bonds, cursing his luck. He had just run in to THE Death Eater of them all, Lucius Malfoy, who had just pinned him to the wall the same way Draco had pinned him, just a few hours ago. And the younger Malfoy had been speaking the truth when he had said that his father was much stronger wizard. While Draco's wandless magic was ticklish, Lucius Malfoy's was like an iron clamp. Harry did not even imagine that he could break these bonds off. He had about as much chance of wriggling free as he did of turning invisible without his cloak.

"Most certainly not," Lucius replied looking amused. "Who'd have thought Harry Potter could look good once he'd cleaned up. And owned by my son at that."

"What?" Harry gasped as a clod feeling spread over him.

"So…" Lucius asked stepping back as if to examine a masterpiece. His black robes, trimmed with gold and red shifted gracefully "How is he?"

"Your son," Harry asked in confusion. "How did you know?"

"You wear his sign on your chest," Lucius said causally, as he pulled off the elbow length gloves he wore. He reached forward and stroked Harry gently on the chest where the tattoo of the snake was. Harry did his best not to flinch. He couldn't believe it. Lucius' hand felt cool, not too warm and dry. His fingers were smooth and callous free, almost as smooth as Draco's.

"It was something Hermione came up with," Harry said firmly, trying hard not to flinch. "You can't hurt me, you know," he said confidently. "There are Aurors outside and if I scream…"

"Oh, I know. I put a silencing charm." said Lucius Malfoy causally as his hand slipped down and much to his horror Harry felt the hand reach for him below the waist. "I can do a few tricks…" here the word tricks implied that his wandless magic capabilities were anything but that "…without straining myself. I'm just a little curious, how did you get my son to cooperate with you and what exactly did you do to his excess luggage?"

"How could you do that to your own son," Harry bit out angrily, forgetting for a moment he was in a really tight position. "He really, really looked up to you and all you did was…"

"I have no idea what my son told you," Lucius said causally leaning forward so he was breathing on Harry. "But let me tell you…he came to me willingly." Then he licked Harry's cheek.

The lick was done quickly and neatly, almost as an afterthought before retreating. Harry tried hard not to gasp in …he wasn't even sure of what. He was sure that some where in Evil Criminals Handbook it was said that all minions of Dark Lords should be misshapen, bald men with bad breath. Preferably like Wormtail. However, Lucius Malfoy was just the opposite.

A small part of Harry's brain, which was not screaming in horror at his predicament, was trying to take in Lucius Malfoy's outwards appearance and process the information. His long blond hair was almost sliver and longer than Draco's. It fell to his mid-back and was let loose so that every time he moved the hair swayed. His wizarding robes were expensive and well cut with a slit on the side which showed he was wearing black pants underneath.

While Draco was still filling out his body, Lucius Malfoy was all planes and angles. He could not be described as beautiful by anyone, but he was very, very, handsome. His eyes were stonier that Draco's and his mouth was firmer. His lips met in a harsh line, firmly pressed together, but the nose was the same straight nose, as was his bearing. Lucius was a few inches taller than Draco, which made him tower over Harry so that he had to crane his head up to look at him. His breath smelled of vanilla and mint

'Did I just check out my boyfriend's father?' Harry thought in surprise when long supple fingers eased down his zipper with a faint noise sound. He gasped as he remembered he wasn't wearing any underwear. This was just starting to be fun.

"Is this a new torture technique?" Harry quipped.

"No, this is what you get for putting me in prison," the voice was causal, as long fingers continued to fight with the top button of his waist band. "You have no idea how much I suffered there."

"Cute," Harry said. "I suppose this is what you did to your son, also."

"What," a perfectly shaped eyebrow rose with amusement, gray eyes still fixed on him while the button came free and Harry could definitely feel the fall in temperature as he was exposed to the outside air.

"You…raped him, you…maniac," Harry gasped throwing himself against the bonds which held firm.

"Don't strain yourself, Potter," the voice was so like Draco's, Harry could have wept. "You can't get free unless you have a wand and something tells me we are both wandless…" the fingers made their way in to the pants. "...unless it's what we were born with."

Harry could only spit out a few curses he had learned from Mrs. Black's portrait and almost dislocated a shoulder joint. He tried to scream, only to find a handkerchief stuffed in to his mouth.

"Now, now," the Lucius was condescending. "Don't you look pretty with your mouth all stuffed up," he said with a smirk. "We can talk without your interfering prattle." His hand once more started to wander down. "Let's see…about my son…you accused me of raping him." The fingers that had been cool were slowly warming up. "Did I tell you that Draco has a weakness?" An open palm caressed his flat stomach from a hand pushed under his shirt which was now hanging free.

"Oomph," Harry said.

"He likes people in power," the fingers closed around his… and Harry's eyes popped wide open. "And he has always associated with people in power. I half expected him to start something with Dumbledore since he was the most powerful wizard in school. He really did love me, you know. Agreed to all and everything I did with him. He would beg me to take him…" All this while sliding his hand up and down over Harry's growing problem. He couldn't believe that he was actually responding to the caress. "…and came to me quite willingly several times."

"He's not like that," Harry shouted angrily before realizing that the gag had flown out of his mouth. "He…"

"Really," said Lucius looking more amused than startled by Harry's wandless magic. "I know otherwise. After all, he is my son."

"How dare you?" he said angrily. "Draco won't…"

"Draco now, is it?" the voice was teasing, but with an underlying edge. Lucius Malfoy stepped back for a moment and parted the front of his robe, contemplatively and resting both his hands on his hips. Harry stifled another gasp when he saw that the older man was wearing a mesh shirt underneath the robe. And Lucius had the body to carry it off to perfection. In fact he had a body a person decades younger would have being proud of. A part of Harry was cheering his good choice in Draco. With luck, Draco would look equally good at 45 as his father did.

Harry tried hard to get free without jerking his hips, since the front of his pants were open but suddenly Lucius looked down and smiled…insultingly. Harry braced himself for some degrading comment about the size of his manhood which was semi-erect from all the unwanted attention it was receiving, when Lucius chuckled. "You have a vampire living with you, Potter?"

"What?" asked Harry and looked down as far as he could see, and remembered the bite marks on his hip.

"Someone clumsy," Lucius said with a vicious smile. "I can actually see teeth marks. You see Potter…" the blond's voice softened as he leaned forward until his lips touched the base of Harry's neck. "…the secret of bite marks in not…" soft lips closed over his skin and it was all Harry could do to stop himself from titling his head back to give better access "…the teeth but the lips…" a lick "…and the tongue. You see…" the lips closed over a selected potions of his neck and sucked "…the objective is to burst the tiny blood vessels under the skin with out damaging the outer skin at all…" the lips gave up on the sucking and moved up "…leaving a bruise." The lips closed over him brutally, pressing him hard, while his hand closed over Harry's penis which was now hanging free.

Harry struggled, moving his head back and forth, and was rewarded by Lucius chewing his lower lip so hard it started to bleed. The hands were insistent and strong legs parted his own and the hand dug deeper into his pants. He could feel fingers probing his… god…how did they get that far behind? and Harry finally found his magic.

Why was it that he could blow up things when angry and not be able to anything when he was being sexually molested by a Death Eater who was also his boyfriend's father? Harry didn't know. He tried to come up with a spell, though in the confusion all he could think of was that this would be a perfect time for Rita Skeeter to stumble across him… spread wide open with his pants lowered to his knees like a common whore. This brought to mind Olivander and the time he had met her…and the Tri-Wizard Tournament and he shouted the first spell that rose to his mind. "Avis!"

A flock of birds…crows from the look of it (well, it's India…what did you expect? Flamingos?) erupted from all over the room and crowded onto Lucius. His concentration must have broken. As a result Harry was suddenly free. He actually fell to his knees on the floor before his mind reacted to being liberated of the bonds. He surged to his feet and grabbed Lucius Malfoy by the shoulders.

Stupid move. The guy was stronger than he looked and actually picked up Harry with one hand while swatting away at the birds with the other, Harry did the only thing possible. He kneed the blond between the legs. Knowing he was out maneuvered, out thought and out magicked, Harry scrambled free and rushed to the doorway, pausing only to pull up his pants up before tripping outside, leaving Lucius Malfoy clutching his injured parts, cursing loudly.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer : Not mine.

Betaed by Laura. She keeps me typing.

Warnings: Minor character death, a little blood but nothing big.

A/N: grimm081- that was quick. You read it before everyone else.

emeraud.silver, bitterpassions, Mak Felton – thank you

Clumsy Thestral –thank you, again. And no, I'm not going to spoil the story by giving out hints. Keep guessing. By the way, where exactly do you talents lie? (if I were Draco I'd smirk and raise an eye brow along with the question)

Ppl, thank you. I wish my original fic had this much enthusiasm. I might have actually found a publisher for it then. Oh. Well, on with the story.

Chapter 20: Night out Part III: One down.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Fred broadcasted in his amplified voice. "I have an announcement to make." He looked around the faces of the diners, who were looking at him. Some curiously, while most simply looked annoyed. After all, they had come for a peaceful dinner, not a freak show. "We are Fred and George Weasley of WWW." The words did little to mollify the crowd, though everyone settled back a little. Fred and George may not be the most respected businessmen in the Wizarding world; they were considered too wild and unpredictable (they sold edible Dark Marks) but the shrewd ones could see that, despite their playful exterior, the twins made quiet a bit of money. Enough to hold their own, and not get loans from Gringotts for their new inventions, which was a mystery of its own.

"Harry!" exclaimed an annoyed looking Hermione, when Harry finally managed to emerge from his incarceration. "Where were you? We were looking for you all over the place and you were no where to be found."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled as he hurriedly put the top button of his trousers. "But Hermione…"

"Harry," she said in a scandalized whisper. "Your zip is open and you are…sort of hanging out."

"What!" he exclaimed and looked down to confirm her observation. "Oh, damn," he said, mortified as he turned way from her so he could zip-up, only to expose himself to an old couple who were looking at them over their wine glasses. "Oh, fuck," he said trying hard not to pull up the zip too sharply incase he got his vital organs caught. The old couple looked scandalized; the lady went as far as to call a waiter, probably to complain about teenagers who were having sex in public and the old gentleman made a show of covering the lady's eyes with his palm.

"And, you have a huge hickey on your neck," she continued in a low scolding voice. "Did you just go into a room to have quick shag?"

"No!" Harry said, desperately. His zip was stuck. "Malfoy's here."

"Draco," she said, not unduly alarmed. "What's he doing here and how did he get out of the house?"

"No," grunted Harry, tugging at the now useless zip, while the old gentleman got up from the table, probably to complaint to the management and have Harry thrown out. "The other one."

"Lucius," Hermione's voice took a distinct shrillness. "What's he doing here?"

"Probably the same thing we're doing," Harry observed dryly. "Came to retrieve the greatest wand maker alive."

"We have to tell Fred and George," the bushy haired girl declared. "Oh, Harry," she said in exasperation, made an annoyed noise, grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around. "That does not explain why you look as if you had sex in a broom closet," she said, pulling his zip up for him, hard.

"Watch it," he gasped as the cold metal skimmed his underwear-less organ a little too close for comfort.

"There," she said patting him on the front as if he was a kid. "Now that you brain is safe, shall we go and join the other. Damn, I wish I had my wand."

"That's it," said Harry, in surprise.

"I'm sure you've zipped up your pants sometime or another, Harry," Hermione said as if he was a small child. "It really doesn't take much effort."

"No, I mean about Lucius Malfoy," Harry said, fighting the urge to hop up and down in frustration. "He's here, in that room, without a wand and all we're going to do is …not take him out.

"I suppose you were able to take him out?" 'Mione said archly. "He must be able to do wandless magic. Being a powerful wizard, he probably has a few surprises up his sleeve. We can't take him out alone. We need help. Try to get Kingsley's attention…or even Percy. It won't matter as long as we do something."

"…and as our sponsor, we give you, Harry Potter," finished George standing on a small stage that had appeared on solid ground. "Err…Harry…mate…if you would join us on the stage now."

"They've got terrible timing, don't they," Harry hissed in frustration, moving towards the stage. He could hardly shout 'Death Eaters' without causing a massive panic attack in the area and he wasn't about to do that.

"Harry will answer a few questions from the members of the press we have invited," Fred took over as he helped Harry onto the stage. Harry hoped he was properly buttoned up and that no one was looking at them. This was wistful thinking, since everyone's eyes were fixed on them, or more specifically on him. "Members of the press…are there any questions?"

"This is it," Harry muttered under his breath to George as he looked around and tried to fight back the flush that was rising up his cheek. How in the world was he going to speak in public when he hated being the center of attention?

"You just keep them busy. We'll call every watch dog in the vicinity here; one of us will take the ward out on one corner of the enclosure here," Fred told him hurriedly "That'll be enough for us the fly off our brooms to the jungle floor lower down."

"Why not simply apparate?" Harry asked from a corner of his mouth, as a wizard, holding a notebook and quill stood up from the audience that had gathered. He was wearing a pink skirt buttoned along with what looked like an orange life jacket. He was also wearing a garlic necklace around his head.

"Draws too much attention," George said. "Can't do that much of magic, without alerting everyone."

"I'm from the Quibbler," the man said in a voice which resembled Luna's. After all he was her father. "I'd like to know what you think about Ministry officials being vampires."

"Er…" said Harry floundering. "I think…"

"Have all the Ministry watchdogs brought here," George whispered. "We told him to ask that question first so you can use it our advantage. Though quite seriously, he thinks it's true."

"But…" Harry protested, wanting to tell them that Lucius was there. But he also knew that the information might distract them from the real reason they were there for. To get Olivander out was reason enough to ignore the threat of Lucius Malfoy. "…I'd like to have all the Ministry officials here on stage with me," he said, raising his voice. "That way we can be sure whether you are vampires or not."

"That's preposterous," Percy fumed from a corner.

"Oh," said Harry feeling one of the twins get off the stage, as if to make room for the new arrivals. "It's nothing really unless you have something to hide."

"Plus," spoke up Hermione from the side line. "Does that mean the Ministry is not with Harry Potter now? I mean, at worst it'll be a few photos with him, on stage…" and they could see Percy's brain working overtime as he figured out how he would profit if his photo was to appear on the front-page of the newspaper with Harry Potter at his side.

"All right," he said grudgingly, as he moved forward onto the stage and Harry tried to hide the look of distaste as Percy stood next to him.

"I know," Harry continued loudly, so the rest could here. "There are more Ministry officials here. For example, that waiter there (Kinglsey) happened to be present at Hogwarts during Dumbledore's arrest (or was it 'failed arrest') and Li Change and all the others as well."

"You don't certainly want all of them here?" Percy asked in despair.

"But how are we to determine if they are vampires or not?" Harry shot back.

"But surely you don't believe that…"

"Surly they can come into view," Harry pressed, enjoying himself. "Just to stand in view…not join me on stage…"

"It would also assure Harry of extra security," Hermione added from her position near him. "A little extra protection for the Boy-Who-Lived can't be half bad."

"We'd just…" said Percy agreeing half-heartedly. "All right…"

"I have a question," the reported from Daily Prophet, wearing the newspaper logo on his chest said. "Is it true that you were with Albus Dumbledore during his last moment?"

Harry sighed. This was going to be a long day.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"We need to find a way to get out of here, fast," Draco said sitting at his table, closer to the inner door. He could hear Harry's amplified voice calling the Ministry officials together.

"Shouldn't we warn them that there are Death Eaters here?" Ron asked.

"They're on stage now," said Draco pointedly. "If you want, you run out there screaming Death Eaters, I'm staying here. No one told me this place was going to be full of Ministry Idiots and Aurors. If your brother sees me, I'll probably be in Azkaban before I can say my father's name. I don't think anyone can harm them as long as they are in the midst of a crowd. It's us, I'm worried about."

"What do we do?" Ron asked, eyeing the menu regretfully. All that food and he was not even going to try out a bite of it. "Can't we let them know we're here?"

"Not yet," Draco said feeling under the table. "Found it," he said and pulled out a wand, taped to the underside.

"How…where…" Ron spluttered.

"You forgot, making wands is what Olivander does, no matter what the circumstance and Fred told me this will be here. It's rather crude but will activate one of the Portkeys in the Portkey room. That's all we need."

"But why not use it himself to activate the Portkey," Ron pressed.

"Because Portkeys can be traced to their destination," Draco informed him coolly, going through the menu in his hand. They had chocolate chip cookies as desert and he wondered if he should give it a go. Just a taste… "Plus, a good wand maker does not necessarily mean a good spell caster. Which is why he needs help getting the wards down, I suppose," he added.

"But only the twins know where the safe house is," Ron pointed out. "We can't let him just go underground. He's too valuable for that."

"True," said Draco distractedly. Chocolate chip cookies with glazing…his stomach rumbled.

"When are the wards coming down?" Ron asked mournfully, spotting a picture of something he wanted to eat very much. Crabs marinated in cherry sauce…an aphrodisiac at that. The menu was charmed to smell like the real thing and Ron groaned at the smells that wafted out.

"The wards…" said Draco when an alarm started to blare across the room. "The wards are down, get ready." He stood up smoothly and adjusted his cloak so it would flutter behind him. "Here they come."

Sure enough, a whole lot of people came rushing through towards the exit, while more people erupted from all over the place, from the hidden rooms and seemly out of the woodwork. One of them had the distinct blonde hair only a Malfoy could have.

"Oh, fuck," said Draco, ducking as his father streaked by. "What is this, a Death Eater convention?"

"More like they were expecting us," Ron said on his knees next to Draco. "Someone must have told the Death Eaters that we were coming. Us, as in someone from the Order or Harry. After all, they must be after Olivander too."

"Great," said Draco picking a napkin off the table and draping it over his head. "We have the Ministry, the Order and the Dark Side, all after one small tubby wizard in the same place at the same time. The fun never ends."

Ron did not reply, as he stood up to intercept the running duo that that emerged from the inner-jungle. Hermione pulling Harry, alone, by her grip on his sleeve. Harry kept on looking over his shoulder as if reluctant to leave, but not having any choice in the matter. "Mione," Ron said. "Here, come with us."

"What are you doing here?' Hermione asked ducking under the table. "Draco!" she exclaimed looking at him.

"Why do you have a napkin over your head?" Harry asked, joining the other three under the table.

"I'm covering my hair," Draco explained. "I don't want my father to see me here."

"Oh," said Harry blushing a little, to the bewilderment of everyone else. "I…ran in to him earlier."

"And he let you get away?" Draco asked in surprise.

"Not willingly," Harry said not wanting to elaborate. "What do we do now?"

"Did the twins get away?" Ron asked, concerned about his brothers' safety.

"Yes, with Olivander," Hermione replied. "Shall we get out of here?"

"'Mione," said Harry. "There're Death Eaters here. We can't just leave them."

"We can't get killed either," 'Mione said pointedly, looked at the mass of moving feet they could see from their position under the table. "We certainly can't deal with them wandless and helpless. Plus, the moment they notice that this place is crawling with Ministry officials and Aurors they'll leave. If we leave before they do, we can wait for them on the other side."

"But won't they Portkey to different locations?" Ron asked.

"Emergency Portkeys only send you to Knockturn Alley," Hermione said. "This counts as an emergency so this place will be evacuated. I don't think the Management here has the time to make specific Portkeys, so they'll just send them to the safe exit."

"Let's get out then," said Draco, standing up and taking a peek in to the chaos, hefting the crude wand in his hand. He did not spy the blond hair of his father and he relaxed. "Shall we leave?"

"Sure," said Hermione dryly. "Draco, take that off. You look as if you had a change of religion.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

They all Portkeyed to the room, where Harry, Hermione, and the Twins had departed. Draco groaned and lurched away to a corner, probably to throw up from the sound of it, leaving the trio looking at the mess on the floor around them. The room they had Portkeyed out had been a tastefully decorated, dim lit room. The one they had come back to was a slaughter house. The serving girls lay in puddles of blood, their clothes ripped off and their bodies in pieces. The annoying Wizard who had spoken to them first, also laid dead, his eyes open, staring sightlessly in the dark. His hand was outstretched as if to cast a spell though his wand was no where to be seen

"There's more here," said Draco lurching out of the corner, wiping his mouth with the napkin he had picked up earlier.

"How many?" Harry asked, feeling sick.

"Doesn't matter now," said another voice, making them all jump as Remus Lupin stepped out of the dark corridor. "Here, your wands," he said, handing them out, having retrieved them from where ever they had been kept safe. Harry grabbed his, grateful for the security it provided, glad it had not been destroyed in the attack on the room. Perhaps their claim that none of their wands had gotten damaged had been true. "You have no idea how worried I was when I came down for a glass of water and found out that only Ginny was at home. We are going to have a talk about this the moment we get home."

"Who…" asked Hermione in a shaky voice, pointing to the dead bodies that were being ignored by Remus as if they were overturned potted plants. "…did this?'

"By the looks of it," said Draco casually, going to stand next to Harry. He pocketed the wand he had pulled out from under the table and used to activate the Portkey with. It wasn't much of a wand but still, better than nothing "My father's associates. They must have come here in force and killed everyone, then used the Portkey to come through."

"So, that's how all the Death Eaters came through. They simply overpowered everyone from this end," observed Ron.

"Oh," said Hermione gasping, falling to her knees. "Harry, do you hear anything?"

"Me?" asked Harry, puzzled while a concerned Ron fell to his knees besides here. "What is it?" Perhaps she was overcome by all the blood and gore.

"Look at this," she said, gesturing to the dead wizards' body.

"What?" Harry asked blankly.

"That's a snake bite, Potter," Draco informed him softly. "Some of the people look as if they died from snake bites."

"True," said Remus speaking a little hurriedly. "I smelled Nagini the moment I walked in but didn't want to alarm you. Shall we leave before a horde of people come through here?"

"Is that why you wanted to know if I could hear anything," Harry said. "If Nagini was near by, I would have heard her hissing."

"Let's just leave," said Ron, helping Hermione to her feet. Harry saw that her red dress was soaked with blood along the edges where she had knelt on the floor. "Can't we go to the streets… it'll be better than this."

But the streets were not any better. In fact it was worse, crawling with Death Eaters and...

"Oh, shit," said Harry as Draco dove through the doorway into the open streets.

"What is it now?" Ron asked pushing through.

"That," said Hermione pointing skywards.

"The moon," said Ron, a little slow on the uptake.

"It's a full moon, you imbecile," screamed Draco, as the implication hit him. "And we're with a Werewolf."

"Oh, shit," agreed Ron, as the first rays of the moon hit Remus as he emerged from the darkroom inside.

"Don't worry boys," said Remus just as the rays of the moon came to rest on his hair. "Wolf…bane…" he said as the transformation began. Having seen him transform in third year, Harry and the other two were not as surprised as Draco was. To the blond, it was a perverse dance as the small, timid looking man suddenly sprouted in height, his bones breaking and reforming, knees snapping as they reversed direction, the shabby clothes he wore shredded to bits. Draco watched with fascination as hair sprouted on inhuman looking arms and the body lengthened and became more bestial. The jaw bone cracking could be heard all over as the snout emerged, followed by the reshaping of the skull.

"By Merlin's virgin mother's grave," Draco breathed, moving back in to Harry. He had seen Greyback transformed, a dark gray Werewolf with broken teeth and matted fur. In comparison Remus Lupin was magnificent, a ginger and grey speckled wolf close to six and a half feet in height, looking much younger and sprier than his human form did. Damn, he could see what Snape saw in the guy.

"He won't hurt you, Draco," Harry said from behind him. "He took his potion today, unlike last time."

"I'm not scared," Draco said truthfully. "He's magnificent."

The Werewolf must have heard him because he turned around, looked at Draco and seemed to smile. Then a hex hit him squarely in the back.

"Death Eaters," said Ron pulling out his wand.

"Remus," shouted Harry. The Werewolf roared in anger and turned around as a series of spells him, each of which seemed to skim over him like oil on water.

"He's a werewolf," Hermione said with realization. "Remember when they tried to take Hagrid in Fifth year and all the spells kept bumping off him. The same applies here. He'll be fine."

"Bu we can't just leave him," said Harry in frustration. "We've got to help."

"Sure," said Hermione pulling out her wand and casting a shield spell around them just as a hex made its way towards them.

"You idiotic children!" came the familiar disapproving voice of Snape as he came into view. "What are you doing? Apparate, out of here, now!"

"We can't…" started Ron but Hermione grabbed his hand. "We have to go, they'll handle it here. The rest of the Order will be here in on time."

"We'll wait until they come then," Harry said standing firmly, casting a 'stupefy' at a Death eater who had emerged from the doorway to the Alley. "Mione, take Draco and get out of here."

"Me," said Draco in surprise. "No."

"Yes," said Harry firmly. "You have to go before they get a clear look at you. If your father sees you, he'll know you're with us." And a stray hex might hurt the baby, thought Harry, though he did not voice the last idea. Draco was still on the fence when it came to the kid and Harry didn't want to bring up that topic very much.

_kill, smell blood_

"No," Harry could hear Hermione protesting. "I'm not leaving you…"

_More blood!_

"'Mione," he could hear Ron saying. "Ginny is all alone at home, she'll be worried."

"No!"

"What if they attack Grimmauld place?" Ron pressed. "Nothing is failsafe."

There were cracks of apparation and more Death Eaters in their white masks poured out of Diagon Alley. Remus roared again and leapt, looking impossibly graceful, landing on all four in front of them, his back legs splayed for balance and took them out with one swipe of his hand. His nails shorn in the moon light, six inch long claws which looked about as dangerous as Nagini's teeth. As the last Death Eater was pushed away, he tipped his head back and howled; a sound that chilled everyone to the bone.

_Wolf, blood, kill_

"'Mione," said Harry grabbing her hand. "Just take Draco and go."

The urgency in his voice must have finally made it self obvious to her. "All right," she said grabbing Draco's hand.

"Wait," suddenly Harry said.

"What is it now?" Hermione asked.

"Draco," said Harry leaning forward so their lips met briefly. "You look beautiful."

"God, Potter," Draco scoffed, a blush staining his cheeks. "You're such a girl."

The moment the two had apparated away Harry turned to Ron. "Perhaps you should go too. Nagini is here. I can hear her."

"She's a Horcrux isn't she?" Ron gasped. "Diffindo!" he shouted at a Dark Haired woman who had tried to trip Snape.

"Yes," Harry said. "Levicorpus!" and one of the Death Eaters running towards them went sailing over the low buildings

"Where is she?"

"I…" at that moment Lucius Malfoy leapt out of the doorway aiming towards Harry. Remus Lupin leaped towards the blond. As he leaped, his body seemed to stretch, trying to cover the distance in one lap. Lucius must have realized, at the last moment that he was under attack as he turned around and fired off a spell at Lupin. The Werewolf twisted in mid-air, the flexible body bowing outwards, so the spell sailed into the dark harmlessly. He took a swipe at him, with an impossibly long arm, causing him to slide away.

"Is he dead?" Ron asked in morbid fascination, looking at the blond who lay at their feet, looking graceful even when he was unconscious.

"No," said Harry, kneeling down to feel a pulse. "He's…"

"Harry," shouted Ron. "Behind you!"

Harry turned around bringing up his wand to stare at the long, sinewy form of Nagini. "Oh, fuck," he said, his mind going blank as he searched for a spell to throw at it. Finally groping in his mind blindly as the snake opened its mouth to bite him, He shouted b_ite, bite, food, kill, kill_ "Incendio!" pointing at it.

The effect was spectacular. The snake burst into flame like a torch, screaming in a high pitched voice which was driving Harry wild. P_ain, burn, hurt, ahhhhhhhhhhh, pain, master! _ He clamped his hands over his ears and tried to move back when it happened. It felt like an explosion in his head, the pain of his scar flared up. He threw his head back and screamed. He could see Remus stop in his tracks, Ron rushing towards him, feeling blood oozing from a shallow gash on the side of his face. His world narrowed into a black pinhole…then nothing.

A/N: ok, ppl this chapter was a little rushed but I promise I'll make up for it. I wanted to include a lot more to this but never quiet got around to it. And if you think Percy's acting odd, there's a reason for it. Read on. If not in the next chapter, it'll be there in the chapter after this.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: only the plot is mine.

Betaed by Laura

To ladyhighschoolnerd –yes.

Givemeurcash – I do try to put everything but incase you haven't noticed the chapters are long as it is. I really don't seem to be able to fit in all the things at one go. But I'm getting there. There'll be a major change by the end of chapter 22. I promise.

Grimm018- here are the answers to some of your questions.

Kalisin- I know. I put (star) for the breaks but when I put it on the web those were gone. And frankly I was a little too bored to go back and edit them, but I am doing it now. Just bare with me a little.

Thank you for the reviews. Without those I wouldn't have made it this far.

Chapter 21: A little mix up.

"How's your head, mate?" Ron asked, passing Harry another ice pack.

"I'll live," mumbled Harry, lying on his bed, unwilling to open his eyes incase the light made the throbbing of his head worse.

"Well," said Draco, on whose lap Harry was resting his head. "We could hear your mum all the way from front parlor so it couldn't have been pleasant."

"Pleasant," exclaimed Ginny, who had just walked into the room. "She skinned us alive then mounted our heads next to the house elves. Then she proceeded to disembowel the rest of our bodies…all because we you guys went out."

"Thanks, Gin," said Harry, his eyes still closed. "For trying to cover for us."

"Trying is the right word," Ginny observed. "She had it out of me in a second."

"She's really mad, uh," observed Harry, opening his eyes and wincing. It was morning, bright and sunny and the entire household had been awake since the night before. Only Remus Lupin was asleep, tired from the excursions of the night.

"How are you Harry?" Hermione asked, tentatively.

"Fine," he said sitting up and leaning against Draco's chest. "I think Voldemort was controlling Nagini when I killed her and that sort of created a shock wave for me. I got caught in the backlash."

"At least that's one down," Ron observed. "And Mad-Eye says it's going to be ages before we can expect another Death Eater attack since we took out a whole lot of them…"

"You mean Remus did," Hermione observe dryly. "Too bad about him and Tonks though."

"Isn't she coming back?" Harry asked glad to change the topic after the scolding Mrs. Weasley had given them for sneaking out without telling her.

"She says she's got a bit to clear out at the Ministry after the attack," Ron said. "Frankly, I think she's just avoiding Remus."

"I heard he was great last night," Ginny said, enthusiastically. "I wish I'd seen it. Must have been awesome."

"Which is probably the only thing that's stopping mum from kicking him out," Ron said. "She's not very pleased with him about choosing Snape. She was all for Tonks you know, even tried to set her up with Bill."

"She can't kick him out," said Harry suddenly. "This is my house, and even before that it was Sirius' and he has as much right to stay here as anyone else."

"Sorry mate," said Ron. "I keep on forgetting that."

"You and everyone else," Draco muttered under his breath.

"What does that mean," Ron asked heatedly.

"Drop it Ron," Harry said, sharply "Don't start a fight now."

"Maybe," said Ron, still bristling. "But the point is someone knew we were coming there and alerted the Death Eaters and the only two people who knew about it apart from us and the twins were Ginny and him."

"If you think I told anyone about …" Draco said, sitting straighter.

"Well, my sister isn't the one…"

"Look, Weasley…" Draco started to say only to stop as another warm weight came to rest on him. "Grang – Hermione, isn't this your cat?"

"He likes you," she said with a shrug. "She's good judge of character so I guess you're all right."

"Bull," said Ron, looking murderous. "It doesn't explain how Lucius Malfoy made a sudden appearance to at a place where he could not possible have been."

"Well," said Draco shifting nervously. "I didn't tell him," he said as his free hand went to cover his middle. "It could have been coincidence that he just showed up…"

"We were lucky Remus showed up or we would all have been killed," Ron spat out.

"Oh, shut up," Draco snarled back. "I have nothing to tell you about my father."

"Fine," spat out Ron. "It wasn't any of us who invited the Death Eaters…" He broke off as an owl appeared from an open window, a paper tied to its' leg.

"Oh, good," said Hermione, getting up to retrieve the paper and pay the owl.

"You still order that crap," Ron said incredulously.

"There's still some truth in it, you know," said Hermione huffily as she dug around for a coin to pay the owl.

"Let's see," said Ron taking it from her and looking a the headline. He snorted derisively. "Check this out," he said, reading out aloud. "Prominent Death Eater claimed to have escaped from prison. And they're talking about Lucius Malfoy…I mean that's stupid…he's being out for ages and now they make a confession after all those eye witnesses saw him yesterday."

"Look at the bright side," said Hermione, grabbing the paper from Ron. "At least he's in Order custody."

"I suppose we should…" say Ginny only to be interrupted as the room door was pushed open. "Mom," she said jumping to her feet while Harry hastily sat up so it would not be obvious that he was leaning against his boyfriend. "You startled us."

"I want all of you downstairs now," Mrs. Weasley said in a sharp voice. "Even you Harry." With that she turned around, reminding everyone of a volcano about to explode.

"What was that about?" Ron asked mystified. "She already gave us an earful for last night so it can't be that."

"But she didn't scold me over it," Harry said. "Maybe now she thinks I've recovered enough so wants to do it over again."

"No way," Ginny said. "You know mom would never scream at you or anything. May be it's something else."

"Sooner we go down the sooner we find out," said Hermione folding the her newspaper and tucking it under her arm. "Shall we go?"

"What about Draco?" Harry asked. "Is it better if he comes down or if he stays?"

"Let him come," Hermione said decisively. "He'll eavesdrop on us anyway."

"You three go down," Draco said abruptly. I have to have a word with Potter. We'll be joining you shortly."

"All right," said Ron after a little hesitation. "But do hurry up. Mom's not very pleased when we disobey a direct order."

Once his three friends had left the room Harry turned around and faced Draco. "All right, what is it that was so important that you couldn't wait until after our talk with Mrs. Weasley."

"Well, Potter," Draco said slowly. "Just answer one question for me."

"Is this about what I said earlier about whether you should come down with us or not?" Harry asked. "Look, you know I can' just drag you down without asking my friends. Its' not just us, you know."

"Look," said Draco with a snarl. "It's not about your little self-important friends Potter."

"Since we're back to Potter, I take it you're really mad at me," Harry said feeling a little puzzled. He scrambled to his feet as Draco also got to his. "What's bothering you?"

"Just tell me who the heck you were shagging with during your time at the Club and …"

"None," said Harry even as his hand moved to cover the bite mark that was rather prominently visible on his neck.

"And that's an exotic mosquito bite," Draco said sarcastically. "Who was he?"

"What do you mean he?" squeaked Harry, unwilling to admit that it had been his boyfriends' father. For some reason, the way his body had reacted to Lucius was filling him with guilt. And he, who had been able to perform wandless magic had been pinned to the wall and molested and his magic hadn't reacted… almost as if he had wanted it to happen. Had he wanted it to happen, he wondered. When remembering the incident all he could feel was disgust and self-loathing but to actually word it was impossible.

"He, Potter," stressed the angry blond. "I really don't think Granger's the type to nibble necks and that sort of thing… is so male. You're turning in to quiet a slut aren't you?"

"That's big coming from you," Harry bit back. "Ron tells me you ran into some old flame of yours. They seemed to be falling out of the woodwork, aren't they?"

"Look Potter," Draco snarled. "You know I'm not the blushing virgin in this relationship. Plus, Marcus was way before you and I got together, so you have no right to bring it up. It's almost as if you're avoiding something…what is it?"

There was the sound of running footsteps and both boys froze as the room door was pushed open. Ginny poked her head in and took in the situation at a glance. "You'd better come down, Harry," she said. "Mom's in a foul mood. She's even got Remus out of bed…so do come, now."

"All right," said Harry, pushing a hand through his hair. "We're coming down now."

"This isn't over yet, Potter," Draco snarled back as he stalked out of the room, pushing Ginny to a side.

"Trouble in paradise," Ginny smirked, as she watched Draco walk away.

&&&&&&&&&&

"I…" said Mrs. Weasely taking a deep breath. "I…" she tried again, her eyes shining brightly, with repressed tears and anger.

"Molly," said Remus gently. "Perhaps I should…"

"No," she snapped back. "This is my concern," she added.

"This is bad," said Ron from is position on the sofa, sandwiched between Hermione and Harry. Draco was perched on the edge of the armrest next to Harry, while Ginny sat on the floor on a ladybug shaped cushion which had been found from somewhere. Remus sat in front of them on a single seat, while Mrs. Weasley sat on the other.

"Ronald," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Shut up."

"Mom," said Ginny, obviously shocked.

"It's you I want to talk to young lady," she said finally. "I want to talk about your excursion to St. Mungo."

"That," said Ron. "We didn't think you'd find out about that."

"Well," said Mrs. Weasley warming up to her topic. "I'm ashamed of you for covering such a thing from me. And Ronald as an elder brother, how are you hide such a thing about your sister from me. And to go on as if you actually encourage it…"

"What exactly are we talking about?" Hermione asked, tentatively.

"Don't you act ignorant," Mrs. Weasley said angrily. "You went alone with it as well. I thought you were a sensible girl but all you seemed to have done was encourage Ginny to…"

"Ginny!" said Ron finally. "I have no idea what you're going on about mom but Ginny didn't even come with us to St. Mungo that day."

"But…But…" Mrs. Weasley stammered as the wind was knocked out of her. "Oh, my…" she said. "Then …Harry…I'm not …but aren't you and Harry dating…?"

"Us," said Ginny in squeaky voice. "Mom, what gave you that idea. We might have been but not any more. I mean, we broke up ages ago."

"Perhap,s Molly," said Remus gently. "I should be the one to question them about it."

"Perhaps," said Mrs. Weasley reluctantly. "Maybe it's …Ron."

"What about me," Ron demanded looking worried.

"This is difficult anyway," said Remus pushing back his hair. He still had not recovered from the attack the night before and was looking tired. His face was lined and his robes looked rumpled as if he had just gotten out of bed. He pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking. "Ron, this is a very difficult question for me to ask but I really want to know," he took a deep breath as if about to dive into a lake. "Have you …or may be I should…ask Harry about this."

"Ask me what?" Harry asked mystified.

"I just want to know, if any of you have been…sexually active," Remus breathed out quickly.

"What!" exclaimed Ron, annoyed. "You wanted to ask me that. That's stupid…Hermione and I haven't done anything..." he stammered and blushed as he said it.

"What Ron's trying to say is that," Hermione said speaking clearly. "That we were all good friends first and I'd like to remain that way. After all, it would be stupid to ruin good friendship with sex. I do plan on getting there… but not just yet."

"She's going to make a color coded timetable for that, too," Ron muttered under his breath to Harry making it obvious it was not his idea to hold back on their relationship.

"Ron," said Hermione sharply. "Sometimes, we have to wait until we're really sure before it all happens and I don't want to loose you as a friend. Plus, you know we sometimes fight…"

Sometimes," said Ginny in disbelief.

"And I don't want Harry to have to choose between the two of us if we don't work out, so…"

"Yeah," mumbled Ron half heartedly. "I guess you're right."

"Well, that leave out the two of you…" said Remus.

"But…" said Mrs. Weasley.

"What's this all about?" asked Harry, again.

"Oh," said Hermione suddenly looking at the newspaper tucked under her arm. "Oh, Harry."

"What is it now?" he asked more resigned that anything else, as he reached for the paper. "We already looked at it."

"Not the middle page," said Hermione giving him the paper, reluctantly.

"Well?" said Ginny who scooted closer so she could read the article as well. "Rita Skeeter… what does she say."

"Oh, boy," said Ron looking at the title which screamed 'Boy Who Lived Gets Weasley Pregnant. Confirmed by Inside information form St. Mungo! And a personal interview by the author herself.

"Oh fuck," said Harry.

"Language," said Mrs. Weasley.

"You thought," chocked out Ginny. "You thought Harry and I had sex and he got be knocked up."

"Young lady," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Don't you take that tone with me."

"You started it," Ginny snapped back. "How could you mom. And why didn't you ask…"

"Well dear," said Mrs. Weasley blushing a little. "I thought that Harry was…you know under pressure a lot with what happened at the end of the year and all…he might have needed to vent his frustration…"

"So, you household is found on seven vented frustration events," Draco drawled sounding amused. "Is that why there are so may Weasels?"

"Draco," said Harry warningly, putting a hand on his thigh.

"Someone at St. Mungo must have told her about our visit," Hermione said. "She saw us that day, so must have asked around…"

"But…" said Harry. "That medi-witch was so nice."

"She might not have," Hermione said. "But…maybe someone else."

"And you spelled the hair red," said Ron finally coming to an understanding. "And every one called you Mr. Weasley.

"That's not all," said Harry angrily. "Have you read this stuff?"

"Apparently," said Draco. "Otherwise we wouldn't be sitting here having this conversation."

"But…" Harry protested. "It makes me sound like a sex maniac. Listen to this..." he added starting to read.

"…Harry Potter who was previously dating the youngest Weasley had broadened his horizon by also getting another Weasley pregnant…"

"Hang on a bit," said Ron. "Mom, you thought I was…I thought you needed to potion and all to…"

"Yes, Dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "But you see..."she said trying to explain her mistake. "You and Harry were so close and you shared a room and I thought…you know...young love."

"Mom," Ron said loudly. "That's sick."

"Listen," said Harry annoyed at the interruption. "…when asked by the reported Mr. Potter told her that he was in very good terms with his best friend who was not present, but was in the hands of another witch, Miss. Hermione Granger who has been trying to catch the interest of the Boy-who–lived for a long, long time. They were seen at a highly exclusive restaurant which caters for couples…This restaurant includes a private rooms and …"

"That's great," Hermione groaned. "Must that woman twist everything?"

"That's not all," Harry said. "..also professed an interest in having sex with the You-Know-Who himself, during the interview and claims to be playing both sides of the field…"

"Well, Potter," said Draco. "That's too much, even for you."

"Look at the bright side," said Ron helpfully. "They don't think you're mad any more."

"Oh, no," said Harry sounding hysterical. "They just think I'm…"

"Harry," said Remus sharply. "Stop that, you're making the chandeliers tremble."

"Sorry," Harry said taking a deep breath. "I'm just…"

"That doesn't explain one thing though," Remus said finally. "I confirmed with St. Mungo in the morning and they told me one of you came for a pregnancy test. Whatever the newspaper says, you'll have to tell me which of you it was."

"The medi-witch you went to was the one who examine me as well," Mrs. Weasley said. "So you might as well tell us what exactly happened."

Like one, they all looked at Draco.

&&&&&&&&

"They'll take me away from here," Draco said dejectedly. "I know they will."

"Now Draco," said Remus gently. "It isn't half bad. I don't think they'll move you. Infact, I'm going to meet the rest of the Order right now before they all read the newspaper article and jump to the wrong conclusion."

"But…" he said.

"Harry won't let you," Remus said and Draco looked up sharply. "I'm a werewolf, remember," Remus said with a chuckle. "I can smell you on him and him on you. I know what's going on even if the others don't."

"Ron, Hermione and Ginny know," Draco said softly. "I don't think they understand….especially Harry."

"About the kid?" Remus asked.

"I mean, all Harry sees is that it's my kid. Everyone seems to have forgotten that it's my father's as well. You know I can't keep it. It's a part of one of the most dangerous Dark Wizards of all times and a pure blood as well. It just can't be normal"

"You didn't turn out half bad, yourself though you've got the same father. It's not a question of if you can or not," Remus said softly. "It's a question of what you want to do."

"I can't" Draco spat out. "I really can't…I …don't want it." He added without much conviction.

"Draco," Remus's voice was soft.

"I can't…" he said softly. "What do you think?"

"I can't make up your mind for you," Remus said gently. "But let me tell you something. I'm a Werewolf…I can't breed. So, for me children are very precious no matter whom the father is. You should know that. And…let me congratulate you."

"What!"

"It's a custom," Remus said. "You are very lucky Draco, to be able to have child of your own. I in fact envy you for having something I myself will never be able to have. And you should know, no matter what you decide, we'll all be there to help you through this."

"Even Mrs. Weasley," said Draco wryly as her high pitched voice came sailing through. She was still scolding the other teenagers for withholding information from her.

"Even her," Remus said with a smile. "She's softy at heart. Why don't you think on what I said? They'll be here as soon as he's done."

"Thank you," Draco said softly as he paused at the room door. Remus gave his shoulder a squeeze then turned as if to retire to his room. "Wait," he said hurriedly "What about my father?"

"Both your father and Marcus Flint are in our custody," Remus said. "Being questioned Snape and a few others from the Order. I'm sorry about your father…"

"Is he going to be a Werewolf?" Draco asked. "Ron told me you swiped him with your claws."

"No," Remus said. "And I'm glad. We'll never be able to control him as a Werewolf."

"Is he safe?" Draco inquired. "I mean, he's capable of wandless magic and all so…"

"Yes," Remus said confidently. "Harry already told us that. We've put him in a safe place… and since your mother is no longer alive, I think he's as safe as he can get."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked puzzled. "About my mother."

"Sometimes marriage bonds are strong enough, should a spouse convince himself or herself that his or her partner is in need to apparate to their location through almost any ward. That's what makes it even more dangerous than the Dark Mark because in the Wizarding world your bond to your loved one is stronger than the bond to your Master. However, I don't think your father went around binding himself to anyone else." Remus gave wry smile. "Even purebloods are not into polygamy so I think we're safe."

Draco did not reply but simply closed his eyes and rubbed his stomach. "Are you all right?" Remus asked concerned. "The excitement of last night wasn't too much was it?"

"I'm fine," said Draco shaking his head, making his hair move like a curtain behind him. "Just a little tired I guess."

"I'll have Molly come and talk with you if you want," said Remus. "After all, she's got the experience of seven kids."

"I'll be fine," Draco said when something else struck him. He was about to ask Remus that when he saw the other four friends walking up the stairs deep in conversation.

"What is it?" Remus asked, noticing his hesitation.

"Nothing," Draco mumbled as the rest reached him.

"You haven't even gone into the room, yet," Hermione said. "Must have been heck of a conversation."

"It's not," said Draco finally coming to the realization he might as well let it out. "I just wanted to tell you that perhaps it'd be better for Snape and Tonks don't question my father together," Draco said, finally. "He's good at picking up subtle hints from people and when he does, he uses them. Since they don't get on well…"

"No," said Remus with a sigh as he pushed his hair back. "We won't be doing that, not that there's anything I can do about the situation."

"You mean, choosing the greasy-git over Tonks," Ginny snapped.

"It's more complicated than that," Remus said looking tired. "There's more here that you'll never understand. After all, Snape and I have quiet a history…" Remus smile a little at the last sentence.

"But that doesn't make it right," Ginny said forcefully making everyone wonder which situation she was referring to, of Tonks and Remus or of her and Harry. "She was so miserable before and after you agreed to go out with her, she was so happy and…"

"There are certain things you can't understand," Remus said softly and while Ginny remained oblivious to the situation. The others could appreciate the effort Remus was exerting to try and verify the circumstances with a group of teenagers who had no business poking their noses into his love life in the first place. "Tonks is tough, she's young and well, she'll bounce back. Sev on the other hand is more vulnerable."

"Uhu," snorted Ron.

"He's sacrificed his entire life to the cause," Remus said sharply. "He's given up more than you can ever envision and he's done it all so you can sleep in your beds safe at night. He's very sensitive under all that toughness and frankly you'll find out that he's more brittle than strong. He needs me more than Tonks, believe it or not. You'll think me insensitive for going after him instead of staying and comforting her but believe me he needed the reassurance."

"But don't you love her?" Ginny pressed.

"There are all kinds of love," Remus said softly and turned around, implying that the conversation was over.

&&&&&&&&&

"We've got our school letters," Hermione squealed in delight. "I can't believe it. We're starting, even if it is a couple of weeks late."

"Wonderful," said Draco sitting on Harry's bed. "Do I get to go or am I a prisoner?"

"Oh," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Tell you what, I'll go down and ask Mrs. Weasley about it. We have to go and buy supplies."

"But Mione," whinnied Ron, "We've loads of time before school starts. Almost two and a half weeks"

"But Ron," said Hermione. "It's NEWTs this year. We have to buy the standard texts and start to study soon."

"Oh, joy," mumbled Ron in dejection then got up and trialed after his girlfriend as she ran down.

"You've been awfully quiet, Potter," Draco said after a while when the silence in the room became too much. "Shouldn't you be celebrating the start of school?"

"I do need to go back," Harry said softly sitting up on Draco's bed. "I have to look for the Hufflepuff cup and get the sword of Gryffindor but …it'll never be the same now."

"Without the old Idiot," Draco said, trying to get a rise out of Harry.

"Yes," said Harry simply.

"We still have to finish our earlier conversation," Draco said also sitting up. "Tell me who gave you the love bite."

"It's not a love bite," Harry said, feeling guilty. "It was you father."

"My father," Draco said loudly. "That sort of draws a line at consorting with the enemy doesn't it?"

"It's not what you think," Harry said hurriedly. "He sort of did the same thing you did to me in the room. You know, bounded me to the wall and forced himself on me…only his magic was stronger…"

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Draco asked.

"He sort of implied that you… well…did things with him willingly and that you were with me…only coz I was a powerful wizard…" Harry mumbled.

"And you believed him," Draco said incredulously.

"Yo…" the room door was pushed open and Mrs. Weasley came in looking happy. Her cheeks were lighted up and she was wearing her best robe, one that made her look as if she was on fire.

"Harry dear," she said with a smile. "Is it all right if I leave the house for a bit? I just got an owl… and I thought I might as well go and buy some books for your new term. Hermione's all for it and …you will be all right, won't you?"

"Yes," said Harry wondering from whom she had received the owl, to make her glow like a teenager about to go on her first date. "Who else is going with you? Is Hermione…?"

"Not today," she said. "And Remus is also leaving …they want him there to question some prisoners they caught from last night's raid and to verify a few facts about that Interview they published on the newspaper with that horrible woman (Draco rolled his eyes)…this time…don't leave the house or do anything stupid."

"I promise, we won't," Harry said, standing up.

"Good," she said dabbing her cheeks with a handkerchief. "I'll talk to you when I get back," she said pointedly looking at Draco.

"What about," Draco growled. "I don't need any advice of breeding…"

"Molly," said Remus appearing at the doorway. "Are you ready to go? We're going part of the way together so we might as well leave together."

"I'm coming," she said giving the boys one final glance. "I told the three downstairs as well about this. Perhaps you should all go and have some food or something."

"We will," Harry said wanting her to leave so they could continue with their conversation.

"Ok, now they're gone," said Draco the moment the room door had closed. "How dare you believe my father's accusations?"

"I don't" Harry said. "Just that… you and Marcus and …" he trialed off.

"Potter, you can't accept me unless you accept the fact I had past lovers," Draco said angrily. "Get a hold of your joyously…"

"I wasn't jealous," Harry protested. "Only you father said you like powerful wizards and you did say that you thought I was…"

"Well, the same can be said about my father," Draco spat back. "After all he's crawling towards a half-blood psychotic maniac bent on world domination."

"Yeah," Harry managed a weak grin but a feeling persisted that something was amiss.

"What is it now Potter," the Blond asked. "Don't tell me you let my father get to you. That's what he's good at. Making people doubt the things they believe in."

"It's just that…." Harry tried to word the feelings that had overwhelmed him when he was pinned to the wall. It had been odd to say the least and the way his body had betrayed him…

The doorbell rang!

"Who is it now," said Draco. "At this time of the day?"

"Must be someone from the Order," Harry said listening for anymore noise from downstairs. "Maybe someone who doesn't come here often."

They heard the door being opened and then…

"Run," they heard Ron scream followed by the sound of spells being thrown.

"Oh, fuck," said Harry grabbing his wand and rushing outside. "Draco, wait here."

"What am I," Draco said sarcastically. The blushing damsel in distress." However, he made no move to follow Harry as he rushed out the room on to the top landing. Peering over the banister he could see Hermione and Ginny also come out looking surprised, but with wands ready and Ron was backing up as the front door spewed out a horde of people, all with their wands out.

"Oh, shit," said Harry leaning over for a closer look. There seemed to be at least ten Death Eaters, all of whom were in the house and they were outnumbered one to two. As he leaned forward for a better look one of the Death Eaters looked up and shot a curse towards him. Harry jumped back just in time as the red beam missed his head but hit the banister instead. It explored into shards of wood and the floor directly underneath it broke away, plunging Harry to the floor, almost fifteen feet below.

A/N the next chapter is going to have a few character deaths. Not the main characters…just a few bad guys and one innocent bystander. (Don't kill me for that.) Also, I should add, the next update is going to be late coz I've got a whole pile of work to finish. But hold on people.


	22. Chapter 22

Discalimer: Harry Potter is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books. No money is being made on any of these works

Betaed by Laura.

Givemeurcash- thank you for commenting on this chapter. we'll see. After all, there a lot more chapters to come

emeraud.silver –I reposted the chapter after you pointed out that I have a lot of grammatical mistakes. Sorry about that. My first language isn't English so I do make mistakes when I'm in a hurry. Sorry again.

I hate writing fight scenes. They are so difficult to co-ordinate. Why don't people just talk things over a cup of tea?

A/N does this count as character death?

Chapter 22: The night of revelation.

Even as Harry fell, his seeker reflexes came to play. He twisted in mid-air, and grabbed the edge of the top floor to stop himself from falling. The pain that flared up in his shoulders made him almost let go and he dropped his wand in the process. He was hanging in the air, in full view of a bunch of people who were out to kill him, while his wand lay down below. It was not much better than falling. Even if he had been able to reach the wand there was no way he could have used it since his hands were occupied with him hanging on for dear life and he was sure the fall would at least break a leg.

"Harry," Hermione screeched at the sight of his predicament as she deflected a hex aimed at her. Her screaming also seemed to have turned all the Death Eaters attention to him. All of a sudden, the air was filled with flying hexes and only his absurd luck seemed to be keeping him safe.

Harry looked down between his legs noting that this time the attackers had kept their cloaks on with the hoods drawn up and since their masks covered their faces it was hard to make out who was who. His hands were slipping and the edge was crumbling under his grip but he didn't have enough purchase to pull himself up. With a grunt he tried to swing his body sideways so he could hook a leg around one of the lower banisters. However, the swinging caused the crumbling edge to break off, so that he had to hastily let go of one hand, drop the hand full of plaster and grab the edge again.

Just then a stray hex hit him squarely on the shoulder, making him gasp. "Oh, fuck," he said, as his grip slipped. As Harry was about to plunge into the lower floor, or at least on to Ginny Weasley who was standing below him, a pale hand reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Draco," he gasped.

"I know," the blond said dryly trying to pull Harry over the edge while lying flat on his stomach. "Come on, Potter, don't tell me you've put on weight."

"I'm trying," said Harry, who was hanging on because of Draco.

"Know what you animugus form is?" Draco panted, pulling him up. "I think it's a bat. You're blind, you like flying and you are so good at hanging off objects."

"Is that a joke?" Harry asked as the blond pulled him off, by shear strength, off the precipice.

"The best I could do," Draco said as a Death Eater came running up the stairs.

"Stupfy!" Hermione could be heard shouting followed by a stinging hex from Ginny.

"I dropped my wand," Harry said helplessly, in the wake of the running Death Eater.

"I'll deal with this," said Draco, giving a flick of his wrist and the man / woman staggered back under the weak wandless magic performed on them. Luckily for both of them, the man/ woman tripped over his robe as he staggered back, stumbled on the step and fell back onto the second landing, where the portrait of Mrs. Black was observing the happenings with malicious glee.

"Go to the room," Harry said. "And lock the door."

"Should I hide under the bed, too," Draco said dryly as a Death Eater started to giggle helplessly from a tickling charm Ron had thrown. "Seriously, what is this … a kiddies party. Why aren't you people fighting, instead of tickling people to death."

"Harry," Hermione screamed. "We need you."

"I'm coming," Harry screamed back. "Hang on." He leaped down the steps two at a time, past the fallen Death Eater to the battle ground below. When he reached the bottom he could see that his friends hadn't been tickling the intruders to death. Rather, they had managed to stun two of the ten people and the rest was giving them something worth fighting for. Half the sitting room was on fire.

"Aguamenti," Ginny screamed and a jet of water from her wand to put it out. As Harry reached the bottom two of the Death Eaters came rushing towards him, probably finding more of an interesting target than the rest.

"Incarcerous!" Harry screamed without thinking and for a change, probably because of the desperation of the situation, his magic responded. A rope appeared from no where (he was thankful it wasn't from the tip of his fingers) binding the closest Death Eater and tripping him flat on the floor. Harry bound down the last step and picked up the fallen wand. He tired to cast a simple stunning hex only to find out that the wand burned his hand. With a curse Harry snapped the wand in two…it wouldn't do the leave it hanging around and turned around to face the second Death Eater who had targeted him. He / she was almost on him, the mask slipping to a side and for a moment Harry froze, looking at the skewed mask. The Death Eater paused for a moment then deliberately lifted the mask so he could see who was behind it.

"Hell, lithle bowy," lisped Bellatrix Lestrange, making his blood boil. "My…my…you seem to be doing very well."

Harry cast an 'incedio!' at her only to have it blocked. Frustrated, he took a step back and was about to hex her again when there was a high pitched scream from one of the girls distracted him. He hastily looked over his shoulder, just in time to see Ginny go sailing overhead and land on what, Mrs. Weasley called, a coffee table, in the middle of the room. Harry had long since discovered that it was only in muggle movies that furniture collapse when people fall on then. The squat table gave a dangerous creak but held while Ginny gave a sickening thump and rolled off.

Ron hastily cast a jelly-legs jinks followed by a cutting curse and then his specialty, the slug curse which had the bleeding Death Eater spewing out slugs and snails from his mouth.

"Harry, watch out," suddenly Draco screamed behind him and Harry turned around just in time to get hit by a Furnunculus curse on the upper shoulder. It was the same shoulder he had received a curse on before, while hanging from his finger tips off the top floor and with a scream of pain Harry reeled away as boils erupted on his upper arm as well as his back. Bellatrix Lestrange leapt at him crackling with glee. "Crucio!" she screamed and Harry was under an Unforgivable, again.

Pain like he'd never felt before seemed to flood through his body. He knew enough about the Unforgivable to understand that one of the most sadistic things about the curse was that the victim was not allowed to loose consciousness. The pain seemed to go on forever, his nerve endings on fire and Harry tried hard not to scream. His screaming would put his friends at risk since they would have to give him their attention but his lips were bleeding from biting He heard, in the midst of everything, Ron cast 'Ennervate' on Ginny while Hermione cast a full body bind on someone else.

"Potter!" suddenly Draco screamed, came running down and ran full speed onto Bellatrix Lestrang who was bowled over. The collision with the blond and his aunt broke the curse and Harry came to himself, panting, curled into a ball on the ground. Enraged, Bellatrix turned around and cast a spell directly at Draco. It hit him squarely in the middle, picked him up and smashed him into the wall making the plaster behind him crack.

"Draco!" Harry called getting to his feet shakily and rushing to the side of the blond who had slid to the floor. "Are you…?"

"I'm fine, Potter," the boy said getting to his feet, one hand around his middle, a little shaky but otherwise fine. As if to prove his point, he took two steps forward and punched Bellatrix, who had been watching the exchange with an open mouth squarely in the jaw. The woman fell like a sack of grain on to the floor and lay still.

"Harry," Hermione called desperately. "We need some help here, fast."

He looked up to see how the rest were handling it and could see what the problem was. Of the original group who had invaded the house six DEs lay in various positions on the floor. (Two Hermione or Ginny had stunned, the one Hermione had put in a full body bind, one Ron had taken out, the one Harry had bound and Bellatrix.) The three remaining Death Eaters had formed some form of group, standing close together, their back protected by the wall, one of them blocking curses and spells coming their way, another concentrating on erecting some form of shield, similar to the one Hermione had used while at the same time throwing a few curses and the last intent on throwing all sorts of curses at the other three who were desperately trying to hold their own.

Ginny sat on the floor, her leg at an awkward angle while Ron was bleeding from the face. They all seemed to have been hit by some form of curse or another and Hermione was sprouting tentacles from her ears which were trying to strangle her.

"Hang on," Harry told her as he threw a curse at the trio of Death Eaters in the corner only to have if deflected.

"Potter, duck," said Draco from close by, busily tying up Bellatrix using a piece of left over rope from the other Death Eater. Harry twisted, felt something strike his shoulder where there was an enormous boil forming. The boil burst and he could feel warm, sticky liquid running down his back. Looking down, Harry watched with amazement as a small green dart like thing rolling on the floor away from him.

"Thanks," Harry mouth to Draco and turned to look for the source of the dart. He saw the Death Eater, whom Draco had tripped over the steps and fallen onto the second landing. The man had stood up and was aiming at Harry something that reminded him of a dart gun. When he saw Harry's gaze on him the Death Eater picked up his wand, (Harry had been in too much of a hurry to pick it up when he'd run down) and point in to his own throat and utter an incantation. Then the man opened his mouth and the sound that come forth was similar to a high pitched whine. The glass in the room shattered and the floor seemed to vibrate. Harry clapped his hands over his ears but his teeth seemed to quiver and Hermione was moaning as she seemed to topple over.

Pointing his hand in the general direction Harry shouted "Finite Incantatem!" The spell missed the intended target and hit the portrait of Mrs. Black instead. Amazingly the portrait came free of the wall, toppled over and landed squarely on the top of his head, knocking him out. Determined, Harry turned around towards the other three who were overpowering his friends. He threw every spell he could think of from Sectumsempra to the serving charm, only to have it reflected back. It was about as frustrating as when he was pursuing Snape at the end of sixth year when everything he threw seemed to be deflected.

"Fine," said Harry angrily. "Try blocking this." He threw every bit of energy he had and shouted "Wingardium Leviosa," picked up the heavy sofa and levitated it towards the Death Eaters. The sofa struck two of them, pinning them to the wall and squashing them like bugs. Turning towards his wand Harry held out his hand. "Accio Wand," he said and was rewarded with a shower of wands all all the wands in the room came towards him, including Ginny's which she had been holding rather loosely. Calmly, he caught his own, turned towards the last standing Death Eater and said "Serpensortia!"

i kill him /i he hissed pointing towards the last Death Eater then turned around and looked at the rest. The snake actually bit the man who screamed blue murder and collapsed but kept on breathing. He flicked his wand over the snake, hoping it would disappear since he couldn't remember the incantation to do so and surprisingly, it did.

By the time he'd gotten that over, Ron had finally stopped the tentacles on Hermione from killing her. She still had tentacles sprouting from her ears but none of them were trying to strangle her.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked.

In reply, Ron spat out a mouthful of blood and teeth on to the carpet and looked at the mess critically. "Damn," he said. "Lost my lucky tooth. Now I'll have to re-grow it…again."

"Harry," said Hermione sharply. "Ginny is hurt."

"Potter," said Draco from his position on the floor next to Bellatrix. "You never told me you could do wandless magic."

"How badly hurt is she?" Harry asked weighing the seriousness of the situation and deciding that Draco's question could wait.

"It's the same leg I broke in fourth year," Ginny said gamely though her face was pale. "I'll live."

"Can you bind her leg?" Hermione said. "Then we can move her to somewhere else."

"Potter, you really should answer my question."

"Mate, you're bleeding, there's blood on your back," Ron observed.

"That reminds me," Harry said. "I got hit by one of those darts. I think it was similar to one they hit Scrimgeour with."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, aghast.

"Potter, you really shouldn't have hidden that talent form…"

"I'm fine," said Harry. "It sort of burst a boil but don't think it really hit me. It rolled under that ledge there. We should pick it…"he pointed his wand towards it, to summon it.

"Don't use magic on it," Hermione said. "It could be sensitive…"

"Potter…."

"Are you sure you're ok?" Ginny asked.

"I'm fine."

"Potter…"

"Not dizzy or anything," Hermione persisted.

"Headache," Harry said realizing that he didn't feel that good. "Probably from earlier. Tried but …"

"Potter…"

"Are you sure, you look rather pale."

"Ow, Ron, that's my leg. It's broken already, no need to test it."

"Potter!"

"Not now, Malfoy," Harry said as he started to feel dizzier. Perhaps he had been poisoned. Or perhaps it was imagination spurred by his friends' insistence or he was just tired of using his magic.

"Can you help me lift Ginny…"

"Potter," the calling was more insistent. "I'm bleeding."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Hermione was the first to react, rushing to his side. "Malfoy, Draco," she said insistently. "Where are you bleeding from?"

"My nose," he said gesturing towards his pants which were slowly staining red at the crotch. "I really don't know," he added dully as he watched the stain spread. "I don't think I'm hurt…ouch…"he gasped wrapping a hand around his middle and doubling up as a cramp tore through him.

"Ron," Hermione said standing up. "Pick him up, we're taking him to the kitchen. Harry, floo Hogwarts and have Madame Pomfry come over, I don't care if anyone is monitoring the floo. We need help, now."

"What's…" Harry stammered stupidly.

"He's loosing the baby," Hermione snapped as Ron strode forward then scooped up Draco in to his arms. "Hurry!"

Draco closed his eyes as pain like he'd never felt before seemed to wash over him. It felt as if his stomach, back and legs were on fire. It could have been the hex he had caught though he wasn't sure. It could have been anything else. All he was aware of was the pain and the feeling of something running out from between his legs.

"'Mione," Ron shouted, his voice sounding panicked. "He's bleeding too much." Dazed, Draco looked down to see that the entire front of Ron's clothes was soaked with blood and that it was falling on to the floor in droplets.

"Potter," Draco called out, suddenly panicking. "Where're you?"

"I'm here," came the slightly breathless voice. "I called Madam Pomfry but she wasn't in. She's apparently gone out shopping of Hogsmead but I did contact McGonagall. She'll be here in no time."

"She's better hurry," said Ron as Draco manned and tried to shake him off.

"Was McGonagall all right?" Hermione demanded.

"Yes," said a dazed looking Potter, whose glasses were sliding down his nose. "Why do you ask? She was shocked but all right. She said she'll be here as soon as she rounds up the medical staff."

"Because," said Hermione. "She's the secret keeper. Only she's able to give out the location of the house. I thought someone might have caught her and tortured her for information."

"But maybe someone else told her," Potter said looking stupid.

"No one can," Hermione shouted. "Only the secret keeper can give out the location unless they changed the secret keeper and I know that hasn't happened."

"Maybe they changed secret keepers," Potter suggested.

"Put him on the table," Hermione said urgently, ignoring his pattering. "Oh, someone call Remus…owl him or something. We need help…"

"God," said Draco as another contraction tore through him. The pain seemed to radiate from his chest to his tail bone in one viselike grip.

"Draco," said Harry gripping his hand and Draco noted that their hands were caked with blood. "Draco…." He patted his head gently as he looked around.

Draco didn't even bother replying, simply squeezed the hand that he held and bit back a sob. He wanted to die, to really.

He closed his eyes and heard Ron ask "where's Ginny?"

"I'm tasking care of this lot," came the reply from the sitting room. "I've just put everybody I have at wand reach in body binds and …how is he?"

"What's taking her so long," Harry moaned as Draco vision swam out of focus. He could still felt the blood flowing out and was it Granger…trying to undo the buttons of his pants.

"Harry," he heard Ginny slightly panicked tone. "I took off the masks of one on theses people. It's…Lucius..."

"How can that be?" Harry asked as Draco gasped again and squired on the table. He wished the Mudblood would quit playing around his pants since every touch hurt.

"Can you…save the baby," he heard Ron ask in what he must have thought was low voice.

"Shut up," Hermione snapped as she busily casting wherever healing spells she knew on him. "I'm trying to keep him alive…"

"Harry, does that mean the Aurors who were looking after him are dead?" Ginny asked. "Tonks was there."

"What do you mean keep him alive?" Harry was screaming. "He's going to be fine!"

"Ron…" there was more panic in Ginny's voice. They could hear the sound of her moving around, dragging her leg. Hermione had cast a numbing spell on it so she wouldn't feel any pain. "The man on the landing…he's got red hair."

"Fuck," said Draco as he tried to double up but failed. He could almost feel his insides moving….it was almost as painful as if he was about to expel his entrails and he was sure he could feel them coming out.

"Who is it…?" Ron shouted back.

"Herm…" said Harry then suddenly collapsed on to the ground.

"Harry!" Hermione was shouting. The doorbell rang.

"Who is it now?" Ginny asked, while Ron was screaming "Harry, wake up…"

There was a crack of dis-apparation and Ginny was screaming "He just got away. I can't go up the steps. Someone hurry."

"Harry…"

"Draco, hang on," Hermione said as she drew out her wand, in slow motion as if under water. The conversation was growing surreal and finally, Draco blacked out.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: The same as chapter one. If I didn't own it, it's unlikely I own the rest

Betaed by Laura. (Thank you for hanging on with me.)

A/N –

a/n I reposted the chapter 22 after it was pointed out that I have a lot of grammatical mistakes. Sorry about that. My first language isn't English so I do make mistakes when I'm in a hurry. Sorry again. I don't think I caught all the mistakes but I do try.

I was surprise that some of you actually wanted the baby to make it. Ok, (deep breath) I'msorrybutIkilledit. (come on, it couldn't have been normal…right?) I'll try to make it up for you later. After this…one more chapter before I reach the end of part one. If you're wondering what that is read the note at the end of the next chapter. I'll clear everything by then…like who's who. Until then…

Chapter 23: Things fall apart – almost.

Draco had always scoffed at the idea of people who offer to stay with their friends at the Infirmary. Why in the world would any one want to stay up with someone who was sick and incapacitated? He had always scoffed at Harry's friends when they argued with Madame Pomfrey about staying up with him. It was so useless and so muggle a gesture, he really didn't believe in it.

However, when he opened his eyes and saw the bulk of a person sitting on a chair next to his bed, he felt relieved. Glad that someone was there and hadn't left him in the cold, all alone . He tried to sit up slowly and fell back again after a small effort, his body hurting all over panting as if he had run a mile. His movements must have alerted his companion because who ever the person was, he stirred and looked at him. The person cast a weak 'lumos' which lit up the room and sat up straighter on the chair.

"Draco," the voice was gentle and Draco recognized it instantly. The Werewolf.

"Muh," he mumbled, feeling down. His head hurt, his body felt as if it had been through a wringer and his mouth tasted foul.

"Here," Remus said holding a hand under his head. "Drink this, it should help."

"I…" Draco paused wondering whether to ask about anything or not. He was back in his bedroom although he was the only one there. It was artificially darkened by a spell and smelled of potions and faintly, blood.

"Pomfrey's outside," Remus said gently. "I'll call her now to tell her you're awake. Harry's fine incase you're wondering, he didn't get much poison in his body and Snape was able to come up with an antidote from the rest of the poison in the dart. We hope it'll help Scrimgeour though he's being under the effects of it for so long and a whole lot of damage has been done. Harry was here the whole day but he keeps getting these nosebleeds so must be out side but…" Remus trailed off when he realized that he was blabbering. "Draco," he tried again. "I…don't know how to tell you this but…"

"I lost the baby, didn't I?" Draco asked. Evan as he said if, he felt something shatter inside of him. Like shreds of glass, cutting in to him, making his breath catch as a ball the size of an orange seemed to get lodged in his throat. He couldn't breath…he wanted to say something but he was sure should he open his mouth, all he'd be able to do was scream.

"Yes," Remus confirmed sadly. "I'm sorry… that hex you caught in the middle…"

"I know," Draco said firmly. "I don't want to know anymore. It wasn't as if I was going to keep it anyway." The last sentence made him falter but he went on anyway. "How long have I been out?"

"Almost a day," Remus said.

"Did they catch the Death Eater who got away," he asked trying to distract himself from the emptiness that was slowly spreading through his middle. He tried to push the thought away that something huge was missing all of a sudden. He hadn't wanted that child anyway so what was the big deal…

"No, Draco…" Remus said as if unwilling to go through with whatever he was saying. "But…"

"There's more," Draco persisted.

"Yes," Remus said softly. "I'll call Pomfrey to explain to you the physical side of it." He still hesitated, biting his lower lip.

"You might as well get the worst over with," Draco said. "I can't bare the suspense."

"Well, Draco," Remus hesitated a little. "You're under arrest for conspiring with the Death Eaters. Aurors are already here to take you away but considering your condition they have agreed to wait a little."

"But…" Draco spluttered. He had the feeling that was falling through thin ice in a raging torrent below. "Why…I mean…what…"

"Apparently there's a Malfoy blood bond that extends from father to child which helps them locate the child where ever they are," Remus said. "I know you knew about it when your father made you pregnant and that was the only way Death Eaters could have attacked us at the Club that night or a Felidus charmed house for that matter."

"Who…" Draco wondered.

"It was Nymphadora Tonks," Remus said. "She was in charge of guarding your father when I met her and told her of your condition. She remembered an incident when she was small, your mother had apparently run away from your father and gone to hide in her house…her mother is related to yours, you know." Draco nodded. You mother had been pregnant with you at the time and your father had tracked her down through the bond he had shared with you and taken your mother back. I believe it was the last time your mother tried to runaway from home. Tonks was rather small when it happened so we decided to visit her mother to confirm the incident. While we were gone someone freed your father and apparated him away."

"But if someone freed him…who…?"

"We don't know," Remus said sadly. "No one was hurt…we only left a few minor guards to look after him since he was shackles up. Juniors, all obliviated …Mad-Eye is out looking for a… Well, on the bright side we did capture him again."

"Horcrux," Draco finished. "Yes, Potter told me about it. Mad-Eye's out looking for one, isn't he?"

"And whoever rescued your father was really good. Knew our inside procedure so it was an inside job, but the only way your father could have found this house was through you."

"So…" said Draco softly. "That's it?"

"I'll call Pomfrey," Remus said getting up while Draco only nodded blankly.

The nurse bustled in and started to explain a whole lot of things which he did not even want to know, though he listened to it half heartedly as she described to him that though the baby was no longer there, the potions effects were not completely revered. There was a chance he could get pregnant if he was not careful about …sex…She was talking to him about sex when his whole world was falling apart around him, again. What…contraceptives…she was talking about…

"I really don't want to shag at the moment," Draco snapped.

"Perhaps not but…" the nurse said knowingly. "You see you were preg…"

"Raped by my father," Draco replied and watched her recoil. Obviously they had been with holding information from her. No matter, he was not bothered with her delicate feelings…

"Draco," suddenly Potter was there, looking pale and if possible, thinner, his hair a messier, dressed in a ratty t-shirt and a pair of old jeans that was fraying at the edges. The familiar feeling of warmth flooded Draco at the sight of Harry. His lover for however a brief time…only to drain away when he looked in to the eyes of the boy.

"Is it true?" Harry demanded walking into the room, his eyes blazing.

"Mr. Potter," Pomfrey said worriedly. "Now might not be …"

Harry waved a hand at her without looking, casting a silencing spell on her effortlessly. "Is it true?" he demanded ignoring the woman who was opening and closing her mouth soundlessly.

"What is true?" Draco said, warily.

"That you knew about bond between the baby and your father?"

"Yes." It was like watching a candle snuff out. The light in Potter's eyes went out.

"What about me?" he asked. "Was I some from of test. Something to play with while you were here?"

Draco lost his temper. He was floundering about trying to deal wit the loss of the baby he was…he wasn't sure he wanted or not. May be he didn't but the fact he was going to be arrested and tried like an adult …perhaps thrown in prison…and the baby…

"Potter, you self-righteous, egomaniac," he snapped. "Just get out."

"Did you ever care for me?"

Draco shifted to sit up, felt a thin tickle of blood flow between his legs and stopped. His stomach hurt, his back hurt, his feet hurt…

"Potter, I'm in pain…I…can we talk about this later."

"No," Potter insisted, with his irritating stubbornness. "I want to know, now."

"There's nothing to say," Draco said tiredly.

"Was there ever any us?" Potter asked. Potter was concerned about their relationship, when all he had was a life time of incarceration to look forward to.

"If you want this to be over, just say it," Draco said looking down. "Just say so and go, Potter. If you don't want to associate with me, then just leave."

"But…"What was the boy trying to say. "I don't want…do you want this to end. How could you keep such a secret from me? You could have told me about the baby…or was your father telling the truth. Did you go to him willingly?"

"How dare you say that, Potter," Draco screamed. After all that, how dare Potter keep bring up that topic. It was a continuation of the fight they'd had before the attack. "You were the one who didn't tell your friends about your little dalliance with my father. Wonder why, did you enjoy it so much you wanted a repeat performance?"

He watched Potter blush furiously looking like a tomato. "I didn't tell anyone because there was never any time…" he swayed on his feet looking pale and reached for the edge of the bed to steady himself. Instinctively, Draco held out a hand to touch Potter then withdrew just as suddenly. "You knew about the bond…" Potter panted, looking weak and sick. "You could have told me."

"Would it have made a difference?" Draco asked.

"Everyone's always holding back from telling me everything," Potter gasped. "Dumbledore, my friends in fifth year and now you. YOU could have told me…it meant so much and we were involved so, why didn't you?" he held out a hand almost beseechingly.

"What would you have done?" Draco drawled.

"I don't know," Potter moaned. "But it would have helped. After all we were…"

"Were," Draco asked softly though he had always known it would come to that. Nothing lasted forever; neither did this.

"I don't know ho I feel about you any more," Potter whispered. "Because of you, I almost lost everyone I care about." That hurt, he wasn't someone Potter cared about. "Give me time, I'll…"

"Time for what, Potter?" Draco smirked even as his heart broke. "For you to think things over so you can spring me out of Azkaban. It's over, Potter, there never was and never will be any us. Just get lost…" he shouted the final sentence sitting up on the bed, angrily but exhaustion forced him back down. He realized that somewhere during their conversation Remus and the nurse had slipped out, leaving them alone. At the sound of their raised voices the nurse came back in, her voice restored.

"Now, don't strain yourself," she said. "Mr. Potter, you can come back later if you have anything else to talk about…"

"No," Potter said in a strangled voice. "There's nothing else to say."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Draco's second visitor was more of a surprise.

"Granger?" he said weakly.

"It's still Hermione," she said sitting on a corner of his bed, a book on her lap.

"What do you want?" he spat out.

"I just want to ask you a few questions," she said.

"Ask away," Draco said bored out his mind, being locked in a room the entire day. "Might I ask why?"

"Something doesn't add up," she said. "That's why."

"What do you want to know?"

"All right," she said bringing out an old book. "I got this book from Knockturn Alley when I went there with the twins. The day I got a medical book for Harry and…"

"Summarize," Draco demanded

"It's a book on Bonds and stuff for pure blood families," she said. "It's a Dark Art book, which is why it was in Knockturn Alley," she added. "If you want to find out about a family you have to put some of their blood on the cover and …"

"You want my blood," Draco said amused. "Didn't I bleed enough…"

"Just a few drops of fresh blood."

"All right," Draco said holding out his hand. The pinprick was brief and the healing spell was cast on him swift. "Anything else?"

"Was it a bond two ways?" she asked. "Can you feel your father…did you feel him?"

"No," Draco said. "Nothing like your house elf bond."

"I shut it down," Hermione said with a blush. "Winky got interested in Dobby and…"

"Ah," said Draco with a faint smile, the first since the attack. "What makes you think something is amiss."

"Well," said Hermione with a frown. "If the bond is as they say it is, then there was no need for anyone to jump him out of Auror protection. He could have simply apperated out using you as a link."

"That's it," Draco said. He'd been expecting something more substantial

"And I've been questioning others. There is a spy in here and if it wasn't you, it was one of us…"

"Are you trying to prove I'm innocent?" Draco asked, amused.

"No," said Hermione. "I hate mysteries. I'm trying to get to the bottom of this. I've found some interesting facts and…"

"Good for you Hermione," he said condescendingly wondering just how pathetic he could get. His life now depended on one Mudblood female. How the mighty has falled..

"Draco," she said hesitant. "Harry's a little hurt you didn't tell him everything. He'll come around soon."

"I don't think there's anything else to say," Draco said coldly. "If that's it, I'd like to rest a little."

&&&&&&&&&&&

"Think Harry," Hermione said. "Who knew you were going to the Club that night with me?"

"Everyone."

"Draco and Ron, who knew they were going?"

"Not me," Ron said. "I was surprised. I don't think Harry knew either"

"I sort of knew," Ginny said. "The twins told me. Knew I could keep a secret better than Ron could. But that's it."

"No one else," Hermione pushed.

"Unless you count all the shops we went searching for clothes," Ginny said. "All the sales assistants…"

"That's it," said Hermione jumping to her feet, ignoring a morose Harry who had been silent the whole time. "I knew it. I just need to make a fire call. I knew it."

"Knew what?" Harry asked finally.

"Draco Malfoy might be innocent after all and I know how to prove it," she said gleefully.

"How?" Harry asked.

"I have a book which helped," she said. "But most of all, I just want to talk to someone. This shouldn't take long. Call everyone together. I mean everyone. Bring Malfoy down as well or we can go up to the room. Anyway, get everyone together in half an hour. I'm going to prove it."


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: If you think this is mine then you are seriously demented.

Betaed by Laura

A/n –I've a long note at the end of this chapter. You'd better read it. ;)

Chapter 24: Who did it?

"Are we all here?" Hermione asked looking around.

"Almost," said Ron with a grimace. They were back in the boys' room which was filled to capacity. Ginny (leg in bandage), Harry, Ron, Remus and Tonks sat on Ron's bed in the far corner. Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Mad-Eye Moody and Fleur where all seated on Harry's bed in the middle. The Twins were sitting on Draco's bed, along with Snape having made a surprise visit to see if everyone was alright after the attack. It was almost ironic that Harry was sitting as far apart form Draco as possible while sitting with his ex-girlfriend and the same thing applied to the Snape, Tonks, and Remus triangle.

Hermione stood in front of them, nervously pacing up and down. In her hand, she clutched a huge book as if for reassurance. "I called you here because we were attacked by a group of …"

"Just get on with it," sad Mad-Eye, probably angry that he was forced to sit on a bed with his leg sticking out.

"Well," she said after a long pause. "Malfoy didn't summon Lucius here. He couldn't have."

"Why not?" Ron said with a scoff. "He admitted it himself. The bastard he was carrying was linked to his father."

"No it wasn't," Hermione said.

"You mean," Ginny said thinking furiously. "The baby wasn't Lucius'"

"Who else could it have been?" Snape said angrily. "Mine."

"Probably," Fred said then shut up when his former potions master glared at him.

"It was Lucius' alright," Hermione said, glancing at Draco who hadn't said a word. In fact for a roomful of people, everyone was keeping entirely too quiet. "I really don't think it was anyone else. Though we didn't do a paternity spell, I'm sure we can be positive about that part. But Harry, remember the question I asked you earlier?"

"About what Lucius said to me about Draco at the club that night," Harry said listlessly.

"Exactly, can you repeat that please," Hermione said.

"Ok," said Harry swinging his eyes towards Draco who flinched. "Lucius said a whole lot of nasty things which I will not repeat but in the end he asked 'what did you do with the extra luggage he came with… I didn't think he meant anything by that…Actually was too busy to think it over until Hermione came and started to question me."

"But you think he was referring to the baby," Remus said. "Only if the bond was true, then he would have felt Draco at the Club. But the question implied didn't."

"But," said Draco, after a while. "When Marcus made the comment about me putting on weight…I thought…."

Ignoring Harry's blanched look at the mention of Draco former lover, Hermione plunged in. "I don't think your father had much time to talk with Marcus after that. You did knock him down and your father was Auror custody soon after."

"And no one bothered breaking him out," Mad-Eye Moody added, almost as an afterthought.

"And Draco, what did your father tell you about the baby?" she asked. "Remember you were surprised at St. Mungo."

"Must I answer the question," Draco grumbled. "You obviously know the answer."

"Do it," Snape said, irritated by all the stalling. "I'm getting fed up of everyone acting as if they are five years old."

"Oh, all right," said Draco. "He told me it was going to be a boy and that the bond between… it and him…"

"Why a boy?" Hermione persisted.

"It's always been boys," Draco concluded. "My mother has always had boys, though none of them survived, apart from me. I think the potion my father fed me was meant to ensure that the baby was a boy. Malfoys have always held male children in high regard."

"Why?" Hermione asked triumphantly.

"Who knows," Draco said lethargically. "He wanted an heir and he never did like girls much."

"Because," Hermione said triumphantly, opening the book and slamming it down on the bed where Mad-Eye sat. "The Malfoy blood bond applies to males only. The only way your father could had felt a blood link would have been if the baby was a boy…but it wasn't."

"Oh, shit," said Harry mournfully. He knelt shakily on his bed and tried to say something, but Mad-Eye beat him.

"Maybe not," he said. "But Lucius did tell us that his son send him two owls informing him of the family situation, especially about Potter being there. That must have been what caused the Death Eaters to attack the Burrow."

"I didn't…" Draco said, and then stopped.

"Don't tell me you didn't send those owls boy…" Mad-Eye snapped brandishing his wand.

"I didn't send an owl tell him that Potter was there that day," Draco finished. "He isn't stupid enough to attack the Burrow randomly in the hope Potter might be there."

"No, but someone did tell Lucius," Remus said. "Otherwise that attack would have been a failure."

"And the attack at the Club," Hermione said. "That's what helped me figure out who did it in the end. It helped me narrow down the suspects and even though I had my suspicions, I spoke to Bill yesterday and he helped me come to a conclusion."

"That question you asked me," said Bill, sounding troubled. "But…that would mean…no…"

"I'm sorry," said Hermione, looking rather sad.

"No!" said Bill standing up, pushing Fleur aside. She squealed in protest but hurriedly shut up when she saw Bill's face.

"But it's true," said Hermione, tears coming to her eyes.

"It's not," said Bill, striding forward and clasping Hermione on the shoulder. He shook her roughly then let go abruptly, when he became aware of his actions.

"Hey," said Ron also jumping to his feet. "Let her go, Bill, she's usually correct, you know."

"You don't understand Ron," Bill said his eyes fixed on Hermione. "She thinks its mom."

"No she didn't" Ron said, halting in mid-stride.

"It's true, Ron," Hermione said, softly.

"What makes you think that?" Ginny said hastily, also getting to her feet. Only the twins remained silent, though they were also sitting up straighter.

"The only people who knew you were going to the Club were us. Me, Harry, Ginny, Draco, and you two."

"So, it couldn't have been mom," Ginny said. "You know she only found out when we came back."

"I didn't say she's the spy," said Hermione. "She's been handing out information about us on a purely innocent basis. She did know you were planning on going out…didn't you Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked the silent woman.

She did not reply since Bill spoke up first. "The clothes…"

"What clothes," Harry asked.

"Merlin," said Ron looking pale. "Draco borrowed your clothes for us to wear. You told mom about it."

"I just told her that you were planning on going out. I didn't know about the Club."

"Neither did she" Hermione concluded. "But she told someone who knew"

"Who else knew the significance of the Club?" George asked, and then gasped answering the question himself. "Percy."

"She's being passing information to Percy all the time," Hermione said, speaking very fast. "Remember, the day before the attack at the Burrow, she ran into Percy at Diagon Alley. The twins came back with her for lunch because she had a fight with Percy and was crying. They said she needed to be cheered up."

"And she must have told him about Harry being there," the twins said. "Only when we saw them together…mom, tell us it wasn't an act…" Mrs. Wesley, who was crying freely, did not reply.

"That day, when I came to the Burrow…on the day of the attack…you sent an owl to Percy, telling him…" Harry said in confusion.

"No," she said fiercely. "I didn't order an attack. Percy was supposed to come for a visit that day and since you were there, I wanted to send an owl telling him not to come but I couldn't find Pig."

"That was why you were insisting on using owls all the time," Hermione said. "You were writing to Percy and didn't want it to look suspicious if you started fire calling Mr. Weasley."

"He did come," said Remus dully. "He came with the Death Eaters."

"No!" Mrs. Weasley shirked. "He'd never side with them."

"He did," said Ron sitting on the floor abruptly. "Remember," he said speaking Draco. "Marcus wasn't surprised to see me. He said…"

"He wasn't surprised," said Draco sitting up. "He wasn't at all surprise to see Weasley with me. In fact he thought the two of us were together."

"You know it was him," Hermione said, speaking to the older woman forcefully. "You told Percy we were all collecting clothes or something. He put two and two together and increased the watch on the club so that on any day, he would be there ready for us."

"But…" Mrs. Weasley said.

"You were the one who invited him to a Fedelius charmed house," Hermione said, shouting. "You did it."

"She couldn't have," Snape said. "Only the secret keeper can give out the location."

"And she did," said Hermione. "Remember at the Burrow, McGonagall gave Draco the address written in a piece of paper. Mrs. Weasley took it to throw it in to the fire but she didn't …she must have thrown something else away but she kept that and gave it to Percy, sometime back. But he didn't come, because he thought Harry was blind. Therefore, useless. One thing about magical ceremonies is that, if someone is spell damaged you should reverse the process before casting anymore spells on them. Otherwise you get all sorts of unheard of side effects."

"All those days you were asking how I was," Harry said, his voice cracking. "I thought you were concerned, not…"

"I didn't know you were better," she said softy. "He was always asking about you. I thought it was because he cared. He told me to inform him when you were fully recovered. I was going to wait for your final physical examination after St. Mungo and then, tell him what the results were. He said if I could get him your medical results, he could show it to his colleagues at the Ministry to prove that you were still alive and … but after St. Mungo…I didn't even know you'd gone taking that Malfoy boy and you went out that night, so we couldn't even talk that night. I didn't get a chance to tell him you were better…"

"You didn't need to tell him," Harry said. "He saw me at the Club."

"But…" said Ginny sharply. "Even if mom did pass stuff on to Percy, it doesn't mean he was working for You-Know-Who."

"He isn't," Mad-Eye said. "Your brother was too clever to tie himself down to a megalomaniac. Instead, he tied himself to Lucius, I suppose. Could have been him who helped him escape. We did think of a few possibilities, but he was never on the list. "

"Got hit by Mrs. Black's portrait," Ron said mutedly. "That's why he didn't hex Ginny. He did have a soft spot for her, always"

"But why," Remus said. "He's not stupid."

"No," said Fred. "But he's in love."

"With my father," said Draco in a disgusted voice.

"No!" said George. "We don't know, but he's always had a thing for Hermione. The brightest witch of the century and all that. She was with Ron and we used to tease him about that, a lot. Maybe, Lucius promised him that with Ron out of the way, Hermione would be his…"

"I'd never," hissed Hermione, looking appalled. "So that was what he meant in Knockturn Alley that day, and he was so agreeable with my suggestions at the Club that night."

"But mom," said Bill, finally. "Why…"

"Why," said Mrs. Weasley. "I didn't know he was working for Lucius Malfoy until the day of the attack and maybe, if I had known I wouldn't have done that. I did it because he's my son. He wrote to me and said he wanted to come back home, but didn't want to come back a failure. Said if he could prove to his supervisor that he was working on something and got a promotion, then you wouldn't laugh at him. You two (to the twins) weren't making it any easier making fun of him and sending all those bogus complaints. He just needed a few places and dates; from our meetings to impress his fellow workers. Then he said he wanted to come meet me and asked for the address, so I gave it to him. I didn't see why the fuss was. He was one of us and we were all going to live here. What use was it if my son couldn't come home? But he didn't even use it…"

"…saving it for last possible instant," Snape guessed.

"…and he sent me an owl saying he wanted to come home, but wanted to talk to me alone…" she went on as if no one else had spoken. "But I went and waited and waited for him but he didn't come. I knew something was wrong then so I ran all the way home. Thought if I apparated, I would splinch my self and then the door was locked and warded. I was knocking on it and knocking on it and…"

"He wanted you out of the house," Remus said. "Must have loved you, Molly, to keep you safe like that…"

"I didn't know," Mrs. Weasley sobbed. "I didn't know he was going to try and kill his own brother and sister."

"He wasn't after them," Harry said. "Only me, but it would have been suspicious if he had tried to get everyone out of the house."

"Oh, God," moaned Ginny, crying in earnest. "I knew you were acting oddly…all those owls you kept on sending and I tried to tell Harry...that day when he blew a hole in the bathroom wall only…"

"I'm sorry," said Harry sounding stricken. "I'm so sorry Ginny."

"You never listen to me," she said. "Remember the Chamber of Secrets .I tried to tell you something was wrong but no one listened. No one ever listens to me."

"Mum," Ron moaned from the floor. "Oh, Mum"

"I'm sorry," said Tonks, who looked equally stricken. "I have to arrest you."

-----------------------------

"Draco, wait," said Harry, hurrying down. "I need to talk to you."

"There's nothing to say, Potter," said Draco, adjusting his cloak.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, as Snape hovered impatiently.

"To Malfoy Manor," Draco said. "Since I'm cleared of charges and of age, it's mine now. I have a lot to sort out before school starts."

"But, Draco," said Harry. "Will I see you again? I'm sorry about what I said in the room, don't…"

"It was fun while it lasted Potter," Draco said. "But there never really was us. Go back to your friends and enjoy yourself."

"I'm not staying here," Harry said. "I'm going to Godrics Hollow…meant to ages ago, but couldn't. I need some time on my own. But please, I'm sorry…you can't end this…please Draco…. I'm sorry about what I said to you earlier. I was angry and you did keep secrets from me. Please, stay or at least come back after you've sorted out your problems"

"I'll see you at school, Potter," Draco said. "Don't bother looking for me on the train. I'll be coming in one of my carriages, directly to school." With that, he turned and was out the door.

"No" whispered Harry. "Draco…I'm sorry…come back."

"Harry," said Remus from the top of the staircase with his suitcase in hand.

"You're going too," Harry accused.

"Malfoy Manor is rather big and lonely. Snape invited me."

"He hates me," Harry said. "I was angry with him… and it wasn't even his fault. I was such a fool…"

"There's always hope you know," Remus said.

"Hope is a demon with the face of an angel," Snape drawled, before following Draco out.

"Give him time to cool down and then try again," Remus said. "He's had bit of a shock but he's not really bad. I should know; I'm dating a guy who took the Dark Mark willingly."

"But…"

"Harry, you can woo him back. You're going to be at school together, you have an entire year…"

"I don't even know if I have the time…there's so much to do."

"You make time," Remus said. "If you want something, don't make excuses. You always have time for those you love."

"I'll try…" he said.

"You should do better that that…" said Remus. "In the mean time, there are others who need you again."

After Remus had left, Harry went inside to talk to Hermione. She was sitting at the kitchen table talking to Winky, looking lost and sad. Her bags were in the hallway as she got ready to go back to her parents for the remainder of the holiday. The house was been systematically cleared out. The Weasleys were going back to the Burrow. Mr. Weasley had been suspended from his job at the Ministry after it was revealed that Percy was Death Eater. Any hope of his becoming the next Minister of Magic was gone.

Things could have been worse but for the moment, he couldn't imagine how.

Scrimgeour still fought for life, but the antidote seemed to have come too late. Fudge was already getting ready to take over.

"I'll see you at the station," he said.

"It's for the best," she said, her eyes red. "He wasn't good for you anyway, Harry. I think he's not bad as a person but as your boyfriend…you can do better."

"He is the best," said Harry. "I'm going to win him back." He changed the topic. "How's Ron?"

"Considering everything," Hermione said and Harry did not let on that he had heard them argue in to the night over Percy and Mrs. Weasley's action. However, they seemed ot have made up by morning. "He's all right. He's shaken, but he's got Ginny and the rest. She's not going to be thrown in Azkaban because she honestly didn't know she was doing anything wrong. Just that…"

Mrs. Weasley was at St. Mungo after suffering from a nervous breakdown.

"What a mess," he said.

"And you still have to destroy the remaining horcruxes and take out Voldemort and …find out what the original plan of Lucius Malfoy was." Lucius Malfoy was immune to veritaserum. All they had at the moment was the answers he had provided willingly. Hermione had come up with a few muggle techniques of determining whether he was telling the truth or not, but they all knew he was a true Slytherin and could escape the process. Snape was working on a stronger form of truth serum, but it was still in the experimental stages.

"I still have to save the world," Harry finished sitting down next to her.

"Ron is glad that Malfoy and you broke up, too. We're proud of you" Hermione was obviously not very good at cheering him up.

"I've got to finish packing," he said, standing up. He left the room without looking back.

He made it up in three goes, stopping occasionally to catch his breath and sitting down once when he was sure he was about to topple over. The poison had taken a lot more out of his system that he was willing to let on. Upstairs he paused at Draco's bed, and then looked at Ron who was standing in the room, looking around forlornly. "He's gone, isn't he?" Ron asked.

"Yes."

"Did you get a chance to talk to him," Ron asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "But he didn't want to…"

"Oh," said Ron. "Sorry."

"Why," snapped Harry, finally losing his temper. During their interrogation, it had been revealed that Harry and Draco had been rather close, if not exactly lovers or boyfriends. "Everyone, I mean everyone, apart from Remus has been telling me how nice it was that I decided to break up with him. Even people who didn't know he and I were together, like Mad-Eye, told me to stay away from him. Telling me stuff like I'll be stabbed in the back while I sleep. Aren't you going to tell me it was good idea too? Maybe get back with Ginny while I'm at it, like your mom was hinting."

"Merlin, no," exclaimed Ron. "I wouldn't wish my sister to be with a guy who wants to be with another guy. Plus, I was with him a bit, you know and he's not half bad."

"That's a first," said Harry with a smile. "A Weasley, saying something nice about a Malfoy."

"Not that different, are we?" Ron said slowly. "We've all got Death Eaters in the family now, by the looks of it. Don't you worry; everything will work out when we get back."

"I hope so," Harry said.

"Sure you don't want to come with us?"

"Yes," Harry said confidently. "I'm going to go and collect the rest of my stuff from my Aunts and then go to my parents' old home. I'm not going to stay there. I think I'll stay here…should be safe with me as the new Secret Keeper."

The Secret Keeper was changed, since no one knew how many people knew about the safe house, though the house was no longer used as the Order Headquarters. He would have a home to come back to no matter what, so he was not about to give it up that easily.

"Well then," said Ron shyly. "I have to go with Mione so…" Harry nodded and watched Ron walk out with his trunk and did not leave, even when he heard everyone else leaving.

He was all alone, just as he was before.

End of part one.

The second part of this story is going to be a separate story called "The Cost of Service." (Name suggested to me by my lovely beta Laura. You can find her stuff at It picks up where this stopped, when they are all back at school. Harry has to win Draco back (yes, it's going to have a happy ending. I didn't write close to three hundred pages for a failed romance) while finding all the horcurxes (what is the plural of Horcrux) and while going through a grueling training that is to prepare him for the final battle.

He's going to get a shock over one of his trainers. (Guess who). Have the most unexpected people support his affair with Draco while many will disapprove.

No character deaths. None of the major good guys are going to kick the bucket, unless I can't stand them and decide to kill them off. I'll leave it for the Canon.

It's not going to be Mpreg. I can't do it. It was difficult enough as it was. I messed it up completely here and it was a total flop. Maybe I'll wait until I have kids of my own…or maybe not. Don't see that happening for a while. Maybe in the very end. You know, they lived happily ever after and ooops …he's pregnant. With the final battle and all, I can't have anyone, guy or girl waddling around. Need them to be quick on their feet and all that though it might be mentioned in passing in a conversation or two.

This story came out a little different from what I planned but the plot is the same. (I originally wanted to put Draco in a dress when he went out with Ron but that was soooo fan fic.)

Thank you for being with me to the end. Hope you'll read the next one too, when I start posting it. Haven't started work on it, yet, so might take a while for it to show up. Hope you'll be with me then.

Before I start that, please, if you want to comment or have questions about this story ask away. I can answer them freely now that the plot is not going to be spoiled.

Thank you to all those who read this story especially those who put me on their favorites list and those who put me on their alert list. Hopefully you'll stick with me for the next chapter as well. Grimm018 you can't call the ending of this chapter a cliff hanger can you?

And to all those who guessed it was Ginny, you were wrong. 


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